


The Halloween Chronicles

by Little_oblivion



Category: Women's Soccer RPF
Genre: Auntie Lindsey, Baking, Bars and Pubs, Black Cats, Buried Alive, Cemetery, Character Death, Consumption, Demons, F/F, Fae & Fairies, Fluff, Ghosts, Halloween Costumes, Happy spoooooky halloween, Haunted House, Horror, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Kids, Lost in the Woods, Murder Mystery, Nuns, One Shot Collection, Ouija Board, Pregnancy, Pumpkin Spice Latte, Pumpkin carving, Pumpkins, Recreational Drug Use, Romance, Serial Killers, Shenanigans, Sleep Walking, Smut, Spiders, Strap-Ons, TPing, The flu, Trick or Treating, Truth or Dare, Vampires, Vomiting, Weddings, Whodunnit, Wild wild West, Witchcraft, ancient Ireland, brief mention of attempted sexual assault, halloween party, horror movie, nongraphic, study abroad, tags will be listed for each story, the woods - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-01
Updated: 2020-10-31
Packaged: 2021-03-07 20:55:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 31
Words: 78,088
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26753914
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Little_oblivion/pseuds/Little_oblivion
Summary: 31 oneshots, ranging from fluffy to scary to sexy, one for each day of the best month of the year.
Relationships: Alyssa Naeher/Becky Sauerbrunn, Ashlyn Harris/Ali Krieger, Lindsey Horan/Emily Sonnett, Sue Bird/Megan Rapinoe, Tobin Heath/Christen Press
Comments: 195
Kudos: 438





	1. The First of October

**Author's Note:**

> Hello everybody!!! I have excitedly been working on this collection of Halloween themed one shots and I am so excited to share them with you! At the beginning of each one I will give the pairing, rating, genre, and any relevant trigger warnings.
> 
> Happy spOoOoOoky Halloween!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The First of October  
> Pairing: Preath  
> Genre: Fluff  
> Rating: K+  
> TW: none

When her alarm started going off, Tobin squinted at it in confusion. Why in the world would she ever need to wake up at seven in the morning, especially on one of her rare days off? But then she remembered what day it was, and a wide smile spread across her face.

Today was the first of October.

Halloween season had officially begun.

She popped out of bed, trying her best not to wake Christen, and headed for the kitchen. She loaded a K cup into the Keurig and slid a mug in place, hitting start. She drummed her fingertips on the counter as she waited for her coffee; there was so much to be done!

She poured in a heavy dose of pumpkin spice creamer and headed for the living room. Thankfully she had thought ahead and already pulled their boxes of decorations out of storage, reducing the risk of waking up her girlfriend of three years. She took a sip and opened the first box, excitement coursing through her veins, wiping away any remaining sleepiness.

For as long as she could remember, Tobin had loved Halloween. Whereas her siblings had liked the day of (what kid can pass up free candy, after all?) she thoroughly enjoyed the entire season. She liked the candy and cookies and other treats that were suddenly in wide abundance, she liked the way that everyone started burning fall scented candles, she even liked the ghost stories and scary movies, even when they left her terrified to sleep at night. It got to the point where some of her family members had begun to disapprove. One day when she was about eight, she overheard a conversation between her mom and her dad’s sister.

“Really Cindy, don’t you think you should put a stop to this? At the very least it’s going to turn her into one of those weird kids who wear black all the time and listen to that screaming rock music. Or even worse…” She lowered her voice. “What if she turns into one of those devil worshipers?” Her voice, though barely above a whisper, was full of disgust and scandal. “It’s not right!”

Her mom had been silent for a moment, and Tobin could practically see her in her mind’s eye, taking a sip of her coffee. “I really think she’ll be just fine, Marie. It’s just a fun kids’ holiday. There’s nothing to worry about.”

And now Tobin was an adult. She was nearly thirty, with an adult job and adult responsibilities and a girlfriend that she got up to very adult mischief with. But the one thing that hadn’t changed was how much she absolutely loved Halloween.

She began to unpack all of the decorations she had amassed over the years, and laid them out. She wanted everything to look absolutely perfect. The giant pumpkin shaped candy dish would go on the coffee table. The doormat reading ‘Here for the Boos!’ would go on the front porch. The fake spiderwebs had gotten pretty tangled up lastyear- she would have to purchase new ones to hang from the rafters and doorways. There was a set of fall leaves-themed placemats and napkins that Perry had given her several years back, and they would look perfect on the table with the ghost shaped salt and pepper shakers. She had a collection of velvet pumpkins in assorted sizes that could be arranged on various surfaces through their house, and then somewhere (maybe in the garage) they had a giant fake spider that Tobin had nicknamed Aragog. He would sit proudly in the front yard, along with a sign that read ‘TRICK OR TREAT!’ She had everything necessary to get their house ready for the best day of the year.

“Good morning.” She turned to see Christen standing in the doorway to the kitchen, smiling sleepily.

“Morning baby. Guess what today is?”

“Hm?”

“It’s the first day of October! It’s officially time to get spooky!”

Christen winced into her cup of coffee. “That’s great, honey. Can it be spooky at a lower volume?”

“Sorry,” Tobin said sheepishly.

“This is the first time I think I’ve ever seen you voluntarily awake before me.” Christen curled up in the corner of the couch and one of the dogs hopped up beside her.

“That’s because we weren’t living together last fall.”

Chris scratched at Morena’s ears. “So what’s the plan for today? I have to go into the office for a little bit, get some paperwork taken care of.”

“Aw, I thought you got it all sorted out?” Tobin couldn’t help but pout a little bit. She didn’t want to share Christen today.

Christen sighed. “So did I. But one of my newest patients had to be admitted into the hospital last night, so I need to get their files sent over.”

Tobin couldn’t argue with that; Christen was a child psychologist, and an incredible one at that. Her job was important and couldn’t always be kept within the confines of normal office hours. She had a thought and brightened. “Hey I could come with you? I can help decorate your waiting room!”

Christen giggled. “I always forget how amped October makes you.”

She grinned. “I can’t help it, Chris. It’s the best month of the year.”

Several hours later, when Christen was showered and Tobin was convinced that their house was appropriately bedecked, they jumped into Tobin’s jeep and headed for Christen’s office, stopping along the way for extra décor and candy. When Christen was done, she came out to find Tobin precariously balanced on a desk chair, trying to hang a poster of a black cat wishing everyone a spooky Halloween.

“Tobs! Get down from there!”

“I’ve almost got it!” She stretched up on her tiptoes, tongue sticking out in concentration.

“I would love it if today didn’t involve a trip to the emergency room.”

She stretched just a tiny bit further, finally getting it in place. “Ha! See? Piece of cake.” She jumped down from the chair and kissed Chris on the cheek. “I’ve got everything handled.”

The rest of their day passed in a similar fashion, Tobin putting on a playlist of “spooky tunes” once they got home. Christen made a great show of unrolling her yoga mat and beginning her workout, but ended up just watching her girlfriend with a lovestruck smile on her face.

“Okay, so I ordered something online, and I really think you’re going to love it.” Tobin had her hands behind her back and Christen gave her a look.

“Tobs I already said that I didn’t want to use a glow in the dark-”

“No, not that! These.” She revealed her purchase and it took everything she had for Christen not to melt into the floor.

“You got the dogs costumes?” she practically squealed.

Tobin nodded with a smile. “I wanted to get Khaleesi a Daenerys costume, but they were all… weirdly slutty for being made for dogs. So I got her a dragon costume instead. And I was going to get Morena one too, but then I saw this daisy costume, and-”

Christen had popped to her feet and cut Tobin off with a kiss. “They’re perfect.”

After dinner, they curled up in front of the TV and started what would be the first of many Hocus Pocus viewings. As the Sanderson sisters spoke from the gallows, Tobin pulled Christen close. “Thanks for humoring me today. I know that I can go a little overboard when it comes to Halloween.”

“Of course, baby! I know that this brings you joy, so if that means our house being decked out with witches and ghosts and goblins year-round, it’s worth it.”

They shared a kiss and Tobin gave a contented sigh. “This has been the best first of October ever.”


	2. The Sleepwalker

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Emily is tired. She's plagued my insomnia and exhaustion, and then her wife tells her she's been sleepwalking. But everything will be okay if she can just fall asleep, right?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Sleepwalker  
> Pairing: Soran  
> Genre: Horror  
> Rating: M  
> TW: character death (brief mention)

Emily was tired.

No, she had been tired before. She’d been in all kinds of activities growing up, then had been a four sport athlete in high school and earned a scholarship to play college soccer. She had also managed to keep her grades up during that time and earn a journalism degree, then got a job in the sports department of the Denver Post. She had been tired before. This was not tired.

She was exhausted.

“Baby, are you gonna come to bed?” She looked up to see her wife leaning in the doorway.

“Yeah, I’ll, I’ll be in when this is over.” She gestured at the television.

Lindsey smirked. “You need to stay up and finish this infomercial about an air popper?”

Emily smiled. “Yeah, I’m heavily invested.”

She walked over and sat next to her on the couch, hooking one long leg over her lap. “Em. Come to bed. You need to sleep, the circles under your eyes-”

“I’m not going to be able to fall asleep,” Emily sighed. “I don’t want to keep you up with my tossing and turning.”

“I’ll be fine.” She grabbed her hand. “C’mon, I have a few ideas on how to tire you out.”

Emily laughed. “Oh is that so?”

“Mm hm. I have lots of tricks up my sleeve.” She reached down and grabbed the hem of her pajama top, pulling it over her head and dropping it to the ground.

“Mm, I’m not sure you have any sleeves to-”

Lindsey playfully hooked her fingers into the waistband of her shorts and began to tease them downwards.

Emily was suddenly not thinking about the insomnia that had been plaguing her. She pulled her own shirt over her head and chased her wife into their bedroom.

After several rounds, Lindsey was sound asleep on the pillow beside her, light snores filling the room. Emily shifted around, trying to get comfortable. She pulled the blankets up, attempting to snuggle beneath them, but was immediately too hot and pushed them down to her waist.

She stared at the ceiling, resigning herself to another long night.

It didn’t make sense. She would spend all day fighting sleep, her eyes trying to drift shut as she sat at her computer, only to find herself wide awake the moment she got into bed. She rolled onto her side, facing the wall. She drummed her fingers against the sheet next to her. The alarm clock said that it was 1:17. She would need to be up at 6:30 in order to have time to get a workout in before heading to work. She grumpily forced her eyes shut, trying to command herself to go the fuck to sleep.

* * *

Emily yawned, pouring more coffee into her cup. She walked over to the kitchen table and dropped into the chair next to Lindsey. She rubbed at her eyes and took a sip.

“What time did you finally go to sleep?”

She shrugged. “The last time I looked at the clock it said 2:42.”

Lindsey paused, a spoonful of cereal halfway to her mouth. “What?”

“I know, I know.”

“No I mean, I woke up and saw you pacing at like 3:30.”

Emily shook her head. “I didn’t get up and pace.”

Lindsey rolled her eyes, popping the spoon into her mouth. “Uh, yes you did. I tried to get you to come back to bed but you just kept mumbling something about it being time, so I went back to sleep.”

Emily chuckled. “Linds, you must have had a weird dream.”

Lindsey leaned across the table, examining her face. “Baby, I’m getting worried about you. Why don’t I drive you to work today? You can take a little nap in the car.”

“No, no I’m fine,” Emily insisted, taking a bite of her banana. “I just need the coffee to kick in. I’ll be okay.”

“Are you sure? I really don’t mind, my first training appointment isn’t until 10.”

“I’m fine, Linds.” She gave her a kiss on the cheek. “Just a little sleepy. Guess you’ll have to try a little harder to tire me out tonight.” She stood up to throw away her peel in the garbage but Lindsey grabbed her hand, pulling her into her lap.

“Excuse me?!”

“You heard me!” Lindsey began to pinch and tickle at her sides until she was laughing so hard she nearly fell to the floor. “Okay! Truce, truce!”

“Yeah, we’ll see how you feel tonight when I tie you to the bed.”

“Mm, don’t threaten me with a good time,” she winked. “Alright, I’ve got to finish getting ready or I’m going to be late.”

* * *

Emily stared at her reflection in the bathroom mirror. The circles under her eyes had darkened to point where it almost looked like she had black eyes.

“Baby?” She looked up at her wife’s sleepy voice. Lindsey was squinting at her, her hair wild around her face. “Come back to bed.”

“Can’t, I gotta go workout.”

“No. Come get a little more sleep.”

“I need to go workout, gotta keep it tight for you,” she tried to joke.

Lindsey put a hand on her arm. “You were up all night, come back to sleep.”

“No, I fell asleep at two, I’m-”

“No, you didn’t. You were pacing again, I saw you at nearly four.”

“No…” Emily’s head was beginning to ache. “No.”

“Emily, you’re not going into work today. You’re exhausted. I’m serious, you need to take the day and get some rest.” Lindsey’s voice was becoming more serious and insistent as she spoke.

“No, gotta go in, I have an article-”

“No.” Lindsey took her firmly by the elbows and pulled her out of the bathroom. Emily shrugged her off and went into the living room.

“Gotta get ready, gonna go for a run then-”

“Emily!” Lindsey came around her and took her by the shoulders. “Sweetheart you’re not going anywhere.” She took her shoulders and guided her to sit on the couch. “You can’t go for a run, I’m afraid that you would accidentally walk into traffic.” She pressed a hand to her forehead. “I’m serious. Something’s not right. You’re staying home and getting some sleep.”

“Linds-”

“Sleep!” She let herself be guided down to lay on the couch. “I’ll let Becky know that you’re staying home.”

Lindsey tucked a blanket around her and as she did Emily grabbed her hand. “I’m so tired,” she whispered, tears rushing at her eyes. Lindsey smoothed her hair.

“I know, baby. Go to sleep.”

* * *

“Mrs. Sonnet, good afternoon! How are we doing today?”

She blinked at the doctor, the bright, fluorescent lights making her headache escalate to a steady pounding. “I’m um, I’m not sleeping.”

He settled onto the stool across from her. “Okay. Do you mean you’re having a hard time falling asleep? Or you’re waking up during the night?”

“I guess… both. I can’t fall asleep. I lay there for hours. And my wife… she says I get up and pace, but I don’t… I don’t remember doing that. I thought she was just having realistic dreams, but, but I started checking my fitbit as soon as I wake up to run and I’ll have three, sometime four thousand steps.”

“I see. And do you have a history of sleepwalking?”

“What? Um… no. Not that I know of.”

“Do you struggle with anxiety or panic attacks?”

“Not… no.”

“Substance abuse?”

She squinted at him. “No.”

“How often do you drink alcohol?”

“I don’t know, just… the average amount?”

“And that is?”

“I’m not a drunk,” she spat, irritated.

He gave her a banal smile. ”I didn’t say you were. But alcohol can greatly impact sleep quality.”

She sighed. “We drink… maybe two or three times a week? A few drinks a piece? We might have one night a month where we get a little wild.”

“Does anyone in your family have a history of sleep walking?”

“I don’t think so.”

“Have experienced any recent upheavals? Are you under a lot of stress?”

She shrugged. “I mean… I recently got a promotion. I’m a journalist and I’m now the head of the sports department.”

“That sounds stressful.”

“I’m fine.” He gave her another stupid smile. “Really. I just need a good night’s sleep.”

* * *

“Are you sick?”

She gave her mom an exhausted smile through her phone. “Hello to you too.”

“Sorry, hi, I just… honey you don’t look very good.”

She sighed. “I just haven’t been sleeping very well. But the doctor put me on sleeping pills so helpfully that will set it right.”

She was surprised when instead of comforting her mom, she looked more concerned. “What… what do you mean? You can’t fall asleep?”

“Nope. I lay awake for hours.”

She nodded slowly. “Right.”

“It doesn’t matter how tired I am, I just can’t sleep.”

“Are the pills helping?”

She shrugged. “I just got them yesterday.”

“But once you fall asleep, everything is okay?”

“That’s the weirdest part. Lindsey says that I’ve been getting up and pacing around our bedroom. Isn’t that strange?” Her mother went deathly pale.

“Oh god. Not again,” she whispered.

She furrowed her eyebrows, leaning in closer to her phone. “Mom? What’s wrong?”

She gave her head a little shake. “I… Nothing. Nothing.”

“The doctor was asking if we had any history of sleepwalking in our family, but I said we didn’t.”

“I think… one of your cousins, maybe.”

“Oh. He made it seem like it had to be more immediate, like you or dad.”

“Ah.” She gave a jerky head shake. “No.”

She rubbed at her face. “What I wouldn’t give for a solid eight hours. I’m so tired I feel almost sick, Linds convinced me to stay home from work one day last week.”

Her mom’s face brightened considerably. “Maybe that’s it! You must be working too hard. You should take some time off from work. You and Lindsey could go on a nice, relaxing vacation. Or if she’s too busy with her clients, you could come and see us! Your dad and I would love to see you!” Emily couldn’t help but pick up on the current of desperation in her mom’s voice and was flooded with guilt that she didn’t visit her parents more.

“No, I’m… I’m pretty busy at work. I don’t know that I could get time off. But I’ll see you guys at Thanksgiving!”

Her mom chewed on her lip. “Maybe you should try working out at night instead of before work. When you were a little…” She paused for a second, staring off to the side before her eyes darted back to look at Emily. “You never slept better than after a soccer game.”

“Yeah. Maybe that will help.”

“If… the sleeping pills don’t help, you should go back to the doctor.”

“I know, I will,” she said, brushing her off. “But hopefully, this will get everything straightened out.”

* * *

She had just arrived back at the office after watching a Denver Nuggets game. The building was empty, almost completely silent other than Emily typing at her desk, her phone between her ear and her shoulder. She had called Sue, the front office manager for the Nuggets to check some stats for her article.

“Yeah, and what did you say his free throw average is?” Suddenly she heard footsteps behind her, and she whirled around to find no one.

“Em? You there?”

“I um… yeah, I’m here, go ahead.”

“He has 87% from the line.”

“Right, and-” She heard footsteps again, and caught a glimpse of something whipping around the corner. “Can I call you back?”

“Is everything okay?” Sue asked.

“Yeah. Yeah, I just… I’ll call you tomorrow.” She hung up and took a few steps. “Hello?”

There was no answer and she made her way down the hallway.

“Hello? Crystal? Tobin?”

No answer.

She rounded the corner of the hallway and stopped short.

At the very end stood a little girl. Emily could see that her blonde hair was pulled partly back in a ribbon that matched the purple flowers on her shorts. She was facing away, staring at the wall in front of her.

“Hi there. Are you here with your mom or dad? Did you get lost?” She took several steps forward.

The little girl turned around and Emily gasped.

Because it was her.

But as she staggered a few steps closer, her stomach plummeted.

Because it wasn’t her.

She recognized the outfit now, the Minnie mouse sweatshirt, from a picture from when she was younger. Her mom had often pulled her hair back, just like that. And the little girl looked almost exactly like her.

Almost.

Her nose wasn’t quite as thin, her eyes a tiny bit larger. At a quick glance Emily would have bet her life that she was looking at her younger self, but it just wasn’t so.

“Who are you?” she asked, panic creeping into her voice. She took another step. “Where are you supposed to be?”

The little girl raised her eyes, meeting Emily’s gaze and opened her mouth, wide.

Emily screamed as loudly as she could, clapping her hands over her ears and squeezing her eyes shut.

“Sonnett!” She whirled around to find her boss, Becky, standing behind her. “What the hell?”

“The, the-” she turned around to point but the little girl was gone. She turned apprehensively back to the older woman. “I… I thought I saw…” she let out a long, shaky breath. “I don’t know. I…” she turned around once more but no one was there. “My eyes must be playing tricks on me,” she finished softly.

“You scared the shit out of me, I didn’t realize you were here.”

“yeah. Sorry. I came back to jot some stuff down after the Nuggets game-”

“Are you feeling alright?”

She couldn’t help her shoulders tensing. “I’m fine,” she answered emphatically.

“It’s…okay if you’re not,” Becky replied carefully. “I’m not meaning to be unkind, you just…”

“Look like shit. I know, I’ve been told.”

“You look exhausted.” Emily brushed past her, heading for her desk. “Sonnett.”

“Yeah?”

“Take tomorrow morning. Or better yet, take the whole day, work from home. Email me when you have something.”

“No, I don’t need-”

“Emily. Take the day.”

* * *

She thought the sleeping pills would help. The whole point of taking them was to knock her out.

But yet.

Every night she swallowed the pills along with a mug of sleepy time tea loaded with chamomile and valerian. Every night she put her phone away an hour before she was planning on going to bed, not wanting the blue light to interfere. Every night she turned on the white noise machine she had ordered off of amazon and then crawled into bed beside Lindsey.

Every night she laid in the dark praying to fall asleep, begging for it.

Every morning she woke up somehow more exhausted then the day before.

It was starting to really wear on her. She was irritable and emotional. She couldn’t concentrate on work. She couldn’t even watch sports, the bright lights and sounds making her head ache until she felt like she would throw up.

She stared at her face in the mirror. She looked every bit as crappy as she felt, and the only plus side to this was that people had began to give her a wide berth at work and in public. It’s as if they were trying not to be contaminated by whatever was tearing her life apart.

She shook out a sleeping pill and used a glass of water to wash it down. She turned on the tap and filled her hands with warm water, splashing it up on to her face before returning her eyes to the mirror.

Her blood ran cold.

Her reflection was gone. Instead, someone else was there. The fuller nose, the larger eyes. The little girl from the hallway, she was back, only now she was grown, she was Emily’s age. But she was not Emily.

Her eyes darted back and forth, but the reflection’s gaze never wavered. She seemed to be staring Emily down, studying her, challenging her. Emily leaned in slightly, her breath coming in fast pants and fogging the bottom of the mirror.

Then the reflection lunged forward.

Emily let out a blood curdling scream as she toppled backwards. Her leg caught on the edge of the tub and she reached out wildly, grasping the edge of the shower curtain but only managing to pull it down with her, smacking her head into the wall. After a long moment Lindsey came tearing into their bathroom.

“Oh my god! Em, are you okay?” She knelt next to the tub and stretched out her hands to her wife as she struggled to sit upright. “Did you faint?”

“No! No, she came at me!”

“What?” She popped to her feet, looking about wildly, her hands clenching into fists. “Where are they?”

“She was there and then she came at me.” The tears had arrived, and Emily wiped at her face the best she could.

“Who? Where?”

Emily lifted a shaking hand and pointed towards the mirror.

“What?”

“She was there! She was, it was me and then it wasn’t me, and she didn’t move, she was looking at me, and then she came at me!”

Lindsey slowly turned on the spot, dropping to her knees on the bathroom floor. “Em. Em honey, calm down.”

“I swear, I saw her. Please!”

“Saw who, baby?”

“I saw…” But she wasn’t sure what to say. How could she explain the woman in the mirror who was her, but not her? Instead she let Lindsey gather her up in her arms, running her fingers over every inch of skin, checking for injuries. Emily hissed when she pressed the side of her head, where she had taken the hit. She helped her stand up, assuring her that she would clean up the shower curtain and curtain rod. She practically carried her to their bed, gently tucking her in with a kiss.

“Sleep, baby. Close your eyes. Let it happen. I’ll be here when you wake up.”

* * *

She was shocked awake by a hard hit across her face, the blow nearly knocking her from the bed. She brought her hands to her cheek, pressing at the stinging skin. After a split second something moved below her and the light snapped on.

She found herself staring down at Lindsey, her knees straddling either side of her.

“Did you- Did you hit me?” Emily asked, her voice growing higher and louder.

“It was the only way I could wake you up,” Lindsey replied in hard, thin voice.

“What?”

“You were, I was, I was asleep! And I woke up when you climbed on top of me and then you, you-”

Emily cut her off. “What?”

“You were strangling me,” she whispered, her eyes filling with tears.

Emily’s stomach sank as if it was filled with lead, and she shakily crawled off of her wife. She stood up from their bed and grabbed hold of the dresser. She pressed her hand to her mouth. “Oh my god.”

“You, you were asleep.”

“Oh my god, I was hurting you.”

Lindsey made a noise in the back of her throat. “I mean once I woke you up-”

“I hurt you!” Emily turned to face her. “How can I… Oh god.” She dashed to the bathroom and dropped to her knees in front of the toilet, emptying her contents inside. After a few moments, she felt Lindsey combing her hair back from her face. “Stop,” she moaned.

“Honey-”

“How can you touch me? After I, I-”

“Emily you were asleep! You didn’t know!”

Emily wiped her mouth with a piece of toilet paper and turned to face Lindsey. “What is happening?” she whispered. “What is wrong with me?”

Lindsey’s lower lip began to quiver. “I don’t know, honey. I really don’t know.”

Emily straightened up on her knees, pressing her fists to her temples. “I could have really hurt you.”

“No, I-”

“I could have killed you!” Emily clumsily got to her feet, brushing past Lindsey and out of the bathroom.

“Em. Em, where are you going?”

“I need, need answers. I have to get answers.” She crossed through the living room, grabbing her bag and keys as if on autopilot.

“Emily!” Lindsey grabbed her by the arm, swinging her around. “What are you talking about?”

“I can’t hurt you. I won’t. I can’t take that chance-”

“It’s the middle of the night-”

“I can’t-”

“Emily-”

“I have to go!” She pulled out of her grasp. “I won’t see you hurt!” She threw open the door, disappearing into the night.

* * *

There was no answer the first time she knocked, so she continued pounding until finally a light came on inside. After several moments, she heard the lock turn and the door was pulled open.

“What the- Emily?” her dad asked, his anger turning to concern. She pushed past him into the house. Her mom was standing just inside the living room, wrapped in her robe.

“Emily are you okay?”

“No,” she choked out. “I’m not. I’m not okay, and I haven’t been. Everything is wrong,”

“Honey sit-”

“No!” she yelped. “I’m not sitting down!”

Her dad had been peering out the front door. “How did you get here? Where is Lindsey? Why didn’t you call ahead?”

“I drove. I got in the car and I drove.”

“By yourself?” her mom gasped. “Honey that’s a twenty hour drive, I hope you took breaks to rest-”

Emily gave a derisive laugh. “I didn’t need to. Because I don’t sleep! And when I finally do, I-” she broke off with a ragged gasp. “What’s wrong with me?”

Her mother’s face was marred with terror. “N-nothing. Nothing is wrong.”

“EVERYTHING IS WRONG!” She began to pace the living room. “Everything is wrong,” she repeated in a whisper. She lifted her head to look at her parents, focusing on her mom. “When I told you about the sleep walking, you said not again. What did you mean by that?”

She shook her head slightly. “Emily… you have to understand. All I, all we have ever wanted was for you to be safe and happy. You have to know that. Everything we have ever done-”

“Mom, what did you mean again?”

The older woman was practically shaking now. “Emma.”

This stopped Emily in her tracks. “Who is Emma?”

She averted her eyes. “Your twin sister.”

Emily shook her head slightly. “I… no. I don’t have a twin. I don’t have any siblings. You, you said that you had a hard time getting pregnant, that it was too hard.”

“That’s right. I ended up having to get help from a fertility specialist. And with his help, I got pregnant. With twins. Twin girls. Emma and Emily.”

An unhinged laugh echoed from her mouth. “Don’t… Don’t you think I would have noticed if I had a twin sister running around?”

“Emily, please sit-”

“Just keep talking!”

“When, when you girls were around four, Emma started sleepwalking. And at first… we laughed it off! We would find her in the living room, in the bathroom, sitting at the kitchen table. We thought it was just one of those things, you know? We thought she would grow out of it!”

Her mom paused and her dad took over. “Then… things started to get more serious. You girls were always tall for your age, and she was able to unlock the front door. A cop brought her back one time, she had been found wandering the streets. So we would barricade the doors before we went to sleep, just trying to keep her in. Then…”

“Then what?”

“She started to become… violent. The poor thing was… she must have been exhausted. So she started having these screaming fits, tantrums. She would kick and hit and scratch, anything she could do to cause pain. And because you were twins… I mean, we tried, honey. But you were usually the person who she would attack.”

Her mom took back over. “Then one night… we woke up to you screaming. We ran in to find her on top of you, her hands around your throat, squeezing.”

“Oh my god.”

“I pulled her off,” her dad said. “But in that moment we knew we had to make a change. You couldn’t share a room anymore. It wasn’t safe.”

“So we moved,” her mom said faintly. “We thought… thought it would be safer. A bigger house, you each had your own rooms. It had a backyard, lots of space to run around in and tire yourselves out. And we would block your doors at night.”

“Why didn’t you take her to a doctor?”

“We did!” Her mom pressed a hand to her forehead. “We did, honey. And he told us it was normal, that kids grow out of sleepwalking. And after a few months in the new house… she seemed to be getting better. The tantrums were lessening, she seemed to be sleeping more… We let our guard down.”

“We woke up one night to a thudding noise. We thought someone was breaking in. But when I got up to check…” Her dad swallowed. “She had gotten out of her room. And she had fallen down the stairs.”

Emily gasped. “What?”

Her mother was full on crying. “It was an accident! She- she was sleepwalking, her brain must have not remembered that we were in the new house. If we had known-” She took a deep breath. “It was an accident.”

Emily turned to look at the stairs that led to her childhood bedroom, to her parents’ bedroom, to the office that had been off limits for as long as she could remember. “No. No, I would remember if I had a twin. I would know!”

“It was… so traumatic, honey. Her death was… And we didn’t want you to be haunted by it for the rest of your life. So we… we took down all of her pictures. We hid them away, only leaving up the ones of you by yourself. We decided to never talk about her again, to let you have peace.”

“No, no, no…” Her head was pounding, her heart was racing, was she dying? “You’re lying.”

“We’re not honey.” Her dad stepped forward and took ahold of her arms as her mom slipped up the stairs. “It was a horrible, horrible accident. But you seemed… you seemed okay. The longer it went… And part of us worried you would develop the same condition. So we put you in sports. We put you in girl scouts. We packed your days with as much as possible, doing our best to completely wear you out, so you would sleep soundly.”

“You… you let me go to sleepovers. You let me go to college and live in the dorms. You let me get married!”

“You never showed any signs! We thought you were okay!”

Her mother had returned. With shaking hands, she gave Emily a picture. She felt the blood drain from her face. In it were wo little girls, arms around each other, wearing matching Minnie Mouse sweatshirts and smiling at the camera. One was her, and the other was not.

Her nose was a little fuller, her eyes just a little bit larger.

The little girl from the hallway.

“I- I- I-”

“We loved you both so much,” her mother whispered.

“I thought, I thought I was being haunted, or possessed, something…” She looked wildly between them. “I’ve seen her.”

Her parents shared a look. “Honey. Emma is dead.”

Dead. She was dead, but she was still following Emily around. She lifted a hand and pressed it to her own throat. “She tried to kill me,” she whispered.

“She didn’t know what she was doing! She was asleep, she was sleep walking!”

She sank to her knees in the middle of the living room, giving in to the tears at last. When her mother reached out for her, she held up her hand. “Don’t! Don’t touch me.”

There was a loud pounding at the door, and her dad went to answer it, muttering under his breath. Emily stared down at the photo in her hands. How could she not have known?

“Emily?”

She jerked her head up at the familiar voice to find her wife standing in front of her. She had a carry on next to her. She looked at Emily’s mom.

“She just… she left. She took off in her car, wouldn’t answer her phone. I tracked her debit card purchases and realized that she must be coming here, I got the first flight here. I didn’t even have time to call you guys, I’m sorry-”

“Lindsey.”

She returned her eyes to where Emily was still crumbled on the floor. She knelt down in front of her. “I’m here, baby.”

“I’m so sorry. I’m sorry that I hurt you.”

“It’s okay, baby-”

“It’s not,” Emily sobbed. “It’s not okay. I’m going to hurt you, I’m going to keep going until I kill you, or until I kill myself, just like her.”

Lindsey wrapped her arms around her, hugging her tight. “I’m not going to let that happen, Em. I promise. I will do whatever I can to keep you safe.”

She leaned into Lindsey, soaking in the comfort of her wife’s scent, but her eyes were fixed on the picture of her and Emma. How could this be true? How could her parents have kept something so horrible from her?

This was a horrible nightmare, and she desperately wanted to wake up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tumblr: @thetheatrelady


	3. The Sweetest Treat

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sue thought the sweetest thing to come out of taking her nieces trick or treating was a stolen snickers bar, but oh how wrong she was...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Sweetest Treat  
> Pairing: Binoe  
> Genre: Fluff  
> Rating: K+  
> TW: none!
> 
> This oneshot is dedicated to DODO24, you're the bomb

Jen threw open the door. “Sue, you are seriously a life saver. Have I told you how much I love you lately?”

Sue Bird stepped into her sister’s house with a smile. “You know, it wouldn’t hurt to hear it a little more.”

Jen gave her a quick hug. “I love you, you’re the best little sister I could possibly ask for.”

“That’s more like it. Where are the munchkins?”

As if they had heard her ask, suddenly two little blurs came running into the entryway. “Sue!!!”

She bent down and hugged them both. “Hey guys!”

“Aunt Sue! Do you know who I am?” Zoe gave a twirl in her blue dress and white, braided wig, thumping her hot pink plastic pumpkin into the wall as she did so.

“Hmmm…” Sue pretended to think. “Are you a witch?”

“No.”

“Are you a ghost?”

“No,” she giggled.

“Oh I got it! Are you a zombie?”

Zoe gave her a heavy eye roll. “Aunt Sue!”

“Wait- are you Elsa?” she asked.

“Yes! And Alex is Princess Anna!”

“Wow!” she enthused. “You guys look awesome!”

Alex, always the shy one of the two, just grinned up at her from around the thumb in her mouth.

“Alright girls, go put shoes on, and grab your coats in case it gets cold!” They dashed off into the house, and Sue followed Jen to the kitchen. “Seriously, thank you so much. You’re majorly saving my butt.”

“Of course! You know I don’t mind. What happened?”

“Well I have to work, we’re in final deliberations for the Sutterland settlement, and Eric was going to take the girls trick or treating, but he called to the hospital at the last minute, there was some sort of car crash and they needed an orthopedic surgeon.”

Sue winced. “Ouch. I hope they’re okay.”

“Me too.”

Two sets of little footsteps alerted them to the girls’ presence.

“Alright, who’s ready to go trick or treating?” Sue asked, earning cheers. Jen shepherded them all to the front door.

“Okay, I want you both to listen to Aunt Sue, she’s the one in charge tonight. Whatever she says goes, and no arguing, got it?” They both nodded, clearly ready to get out on the streets.

“Our street generally has pretty good houses, but you might make your way towards Reign Street, they usually go all out with decorations and stuff,” Jen briefed her younger sister. “And… right. Okay, have fun! Wait, let me grab some pictures.” She pulled out her phone and snapped several pics of the girls and Sue. “Okay, now have fun. And don’t forget to say please and thank you!”

Sue rolled her eyes. “We’ll be fine Jen. Say bye girls.”

“Bye Mommy!”

Sue had definitely underestimated how long it would take to do trick or treating. She hadn’t been anticipating Zoe’s need to inspect the contents of her pumpkin after every single house, or for Alex to get scared by a pop up scarecrow on Thorns Avenue. She had dissolved into hysterical tears and only several laffy taffys and Sue’s offer to carry her had made them subside. By the time Sue had made it to Reign Street, she was wondering how much longer they should keep going.

They walked up to a pretty dark grey townhouse and Zoe rang the doorbell. After several seconds, the door swung open to reveal a short woman with white blonde hair styled in a pixie cut.

“Trick or treat!” Zoe called out.

“Wow! Who do we have here? Are you Elsa?”

She nodded enthusiastically. “And my sister is Anna!”

The woman turned her eyes to Alex, and in turn, Sue. Was she imagining the way the woman was looking her over? The woman smirked. “Well aren’t you a cutie.” Somehow, Sue didn’t think she was referring to the four year old in her arms.

Suddenly a giant dog wandered up to the door, making Zoe’s eyes light up. “Puppy!” She immediately reached out for him, and Sue barely caught her by the back of her dress.

“No, we have to ask before we pet dogs that we don’t know.” Zoe gave her a distressed look, making both Sue and the woman who had answered the door laugh.

“It’s alright, she won’t hurt you. Logan’s a sweetheart, aren’t you?”

Sue released her hold and Zoe threw her arms around the dog that was nearly taller than her. Alex began to squirm in Sue’s arms, not wanting to miss out on the opportunity to pet the dog like her sister.

With the girls distracted, the woman turned to Sue. “Your daughters are super cute, you and your husband must be so happy.”

“Oh, they’re not-”

“She’s our aunt,” Zoe informed the woman. “And she doesn’t have a husband because she’s gay, which means that she loves girls.”

Sue’s eyes nearly bugged out of her head.

The blonde woman seemed to be holding back hysterical laughter. “Oh is that right?”

She fixed her with an appraising stare as she adjusted her Elsa wig. “Are you gay?”

“Zoe!”

The little girl looked up at her aunt, indignant. “What?”

“I’m… so sorry,” Sue stammered. “I don’t…”

“Don’t worry about it,” she laughed. “It’s not often that a six year old’s gaydar is so spot on.” She gave Sue a wink.

“I’m nearly seven,” Zoe amended.

“Okay girls, I think it’s time to move on to the next house.” Sue wanted to sink into the pavement, her cheeks hot with embarrassment.

“Here’s your candy.” They were each allowed to take a handful from the bowl. “And um… when you’re done trick or treating, we’re having a Halloween party. You could swing back by.”

“Can we come?” Zoe asked.

The woman laughed. “It’s a no kiddo party unfortunately.” She looked back at Sue. “No pressure. Just if you don’t have plans.”

“Right, um…”

“Pinoe, come help Ali make the punch!” A woman called from inside.

“Alright!” she yelled back. She gave them a smile. “Have a good night girls. And hopefully we’ll see you later…” she looked at her expectantly.

“Sue.”

“Megan.”

“Right. Um, well, what do you say girls?”

“Thank you!”

Megan gave Sue a final wink, then closed the door.

* * *

“Sue, you _have_ to go.”

She groaned, sinking into the chair across from Jen. “I know literally nothing about this woman.”

“I mean, you know she’s gay.”

“Yeah, thanks to your kid,” Sue shot back sarcastically.

“Listen, she may not be subtle, but she gets the job done.” Jen grabbed a Snickers from the pile of candy siphoned out of the girls Halloween buckets. “I think you should go.”

“No, I should just catch the train back into the city.”

“Sue! Have you ever thought that you’re never going to meet anyone unless you make an effort to be around other gay women?”

Sue scoffed. “I play professional basketball, Jen, it’s not as if we’re lacking.”

“C’mon. Throw caution to the wind! Go to the party, see the cute girl.”

“I didn’t say she was cute,” she argued.

“Okay but is she?”

Sue scuffed the heel of her shoe into the rug. “I mean, she’s not _not_ cute.”

“See?!”

“And also, who said I was even looking? I’m in the middle of a season-”

“Sue.” Jen waited until Sue raised her eyes. “Just give it a shot. If nothing else, you’ll have a funny story to tell. But you’ll never know unless you actually go.”

She sighed. “Fine. I will go to this party and hopefully not get murdered. But don’t think you don’t owe me for taking the girls out tonight.”

Jen just smiled. “If you end up with a girlfriend, I’ll consider us even.”

* * *

She took a deep breath and rang the door bell. She quickly wiped her palms on her pants, feeling weirdly nervous. The door swung open to reveal a gorgeous woman with blue eyes and long brown hair, practically poured into a cat suit.

“Hi! I’m uh…”

She gave her an appraising look. “Are you the hot lesbian with the two nieces?”

She laughed. “Um, yeah. That’s me I guess.”

“Come in!” Sue stepped inside and the woman shut the door. “Pinoe! Your girl came back!” She yelled into the house over the thudding music. “I’m Alex, by the way.”

“Sue.” She followed Alex into the living room, where the party was already in full swing. She spotted Megan next to a tall woman with short blonde hair. Her face lit up.

“You came back!”

“I did. I thought I at least owed you that after my niece got all up in your business.”

Megan waved a hand. “Don’t even worry about it. It was cute!”

“Right.” She cleared her throat. “I like your costume. Are you…”

Megan gestured to the oversized white button down and tube socks she had changed into. “Risky business.”

“I dig it.” She looked down at her own outfit of a tee shirt and track pants. “Sorry, I didn’t have-”

“Seriously, don’t even sweat it. Lots of people didn’t dress up, you’re in good company. Can I get you something to drink?”

The party ended up being a lot of fun. Megan, or Pinoe as she found out a lot of people called her, and her friends were a fun and welcoming bunch, and before Sue knew it she had been there for several hours and was feeling a little tipsy.

“I’m really glad you came.” She turned to see one of Megan’s friends at the punch bowl, Ali? Alex? Andi? She was pretty sure this was her house and she and her fiancée owned the dog she had met earlier.

“Thanks for having me. This has been a lot of fun.”

“Of course!” She handed Sue another cup of the bright green punch. “Y’know, Pinoe had to be taken off door duty after you came by.”

“Oh?”

The girl smirked, wrinkling her nose. “Yeah. She just wouldn’t shut up about the hot woman with two cute nieces.” Sue blushed and took a sip of her drink, unsure of what to say. “I know you don’t know her really, but she’s great. Seriously. I mean, she’s a loon, but she’s also super fierce and loyal and obsessed with the idea that everyone deserves to have their voice heard. Not just the LGBT community, but also the black community, the incarcerated… She’s an incredible person, and whoever ends up with her… well, she’ll be a lucky lady for sure.”

Suddenly Megan was sliding up between them, throwing her arms around their necks. “What are you telling her Ali? It’s all lies, Sue, scout’s honor.”

Sue smiled at her. “All good things, don’t worry.” She glanced at her phone. “I should probably head out, though. It’s getting pretty late.”

“I’ll walk you to the door.”

Once Sue had stepped out onto the porch, she found herself staring down at Megan, both of them in each other’s space.

“I really am glad that you came.”

“Yeah.”

“When Ash and Ali wanted to have the party out here instead of at my apartment in the city-”

“Wait you don’t live here on the island?”

Megan laughed. “No way. I live in Harlem. Where do you-”

But she never got the chance to finish her question, because Sue Bird decided that sometimes you have to throw caution to the wind and leaned in for a kiss, claiming the best Halloween treat she’d had in recent memory.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tumblr: @thetheatrelady


	4. The Hellebore House

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> For sale: Beautiful Victorian home, built in 1863. Will need TLC, but still has the original wood flooring, crown molding, and more! Perfect for a young contractor who is unafraid to get their hands dirty!
> 
> In which, Tobin Heath buys her dream property, and gets way more than she paid for.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Hellebore House  
> Pairing: Preath  
> Genre: Horror  
> Rating: M  
> TW: discussion of death

From the moment the realtor sent her the listing, Tobin knew that she had found her next project. The Hellebore House, built in 1863, it was a typical home of it’s time, tall, strong, imposing, beautiful. Her eyes took in the logistical information, the bedrooms, the bathrooms, the multiple living areas, the square footage, but she was drawn back to the photos. She wasn’t blind, she could see the things they would have to repair, but the fact of the matter was it was a gorgeous property, and Tobin knew that she would be able to restore it to its previous glory.

Kelley was a little bit harder to sell. Her lips went thin as she looked it over. “Are you sure, Tobs? We’ve always purchased, flipped, then sold for profit. If you really want to keep ownership and operate it as a bed and breakfast… Well, we’ll need more capital for starters.”

“But look at it, Kel! Its gorgeous! And they’re selling it for next to nothing since it’s been on the market for so many years-”

“Meaning there’s probably something wrong with it! You know that!”

“I really think we’ll regret passing it up, Kelley. Think about it. Think about how beautiful we can make it. Look at those bones!”

Kelley sighed. “Okay, yes it’s gorgeous.”

“It’s worth it for staircase alone.”

“Okay, but running a bnb is a year round endeavor. You won’t be able to jet off to the next project. It’s going to keep you tied down here.”

Tobin shrugged. “I know. I know but… I don’t know what to tell you. Its different. I think it’ll be worth it. C’mon,” she wrapped an arm around her shoulders. “What do you say?” Kelley let out a heavy sigh, but Tobin saw the way her finger was doodling on the tabletop, as if she was already calculating purchase costs in her head. She grinned. “You won’t regret this, Kel. I promise.”

Hellebore House proved to be even more beautiful in person, but it definitely needed work. Kelley and Tobin started prepping for the renovation as soon as the sale was final, issuing contracts to local carpenters, plumbers, and electricians. They would show up practically at the crack of dawn, pour in their blood, sweat, and tears, and then made their way back to their cheap motel rooms to drink beer and chow down on pizza.

They had been working for several weeks when Kelley’s girlfriend showed up unexpectedly for their anniversary. Tobin had waved her off to spend some well deserved RnR time. The electricians needed her out of their way, so Tobin found herself at a local bar, sipping on a cold beer.

A woman came in and sat a few seats down. She did her best to look her over out of the corner of her eye. She was tan, and professionally dressed in a dress and blazer. Her hair was twisted up into a bun, but after asking for a glass of cabernet she reached up and pulled out the pins, letting her curls fall loose around her shoulders. Even from a few seats away, Tobin could see that she attractive.

“So what brings you to town?” the bartender asked her.

She cleared her throat. “Do I stick out that bad?”

He smiled. “No. I’ve just never seen you before.”

She offered him a hand. “Tobin Heath. I just bought the old Hellebore House.”

She saw the woman next to her freeze and turn to look at her. “I’m sorry what did you just say?”

The woman was even prettier than Tobin had first thought and she couldn’t help but drink in her green eyes, dark curls, and perfect, pink mouth.

“I purchased the old Hellebore House. I’m a contractor and I plan to fix it up and operate it as a bed and breakfast.”

Those pink lips twisted into an all knowing grin. “I see. So does that make you ignorant, stupid, or merely a glutton for punishment?”

Tobin laughed, surprised. “Girls usually wait till at least the third date to call me stupid to my face.”

The woman’s face flushed. “Sorry. That was rude. I guess what I’m trying to ask is… why in God’s name would you possibly want to buy that old thing?”

Tobins mouth dropped open. “Are you kidding me? It’s a masterpiece! Over a hundred and fifty years old, still had the original wood work-“

“-and the original termites-“

“Beautiful archways and crown molding-“

“-toxic mold, probably lead paint-“

“And besides, it’s a historical gem. Who knows what stories live in its walls?!” She smiled, feeling like she had made excellent points.

The woman merely smiled. “You’re not from around here, are you?”

Tobin paused. “No. I’m a bit of a nomad, actually.”

The woman lifted a hand to the bartender. “Pour her another beer, Al.” She moved one stool over, so that she was right next to Tobin, then met her eyes again. “I’m Christen, by the way, and you have no idea what you just got yourself into.”

“Tobin.” They shook hands and Tobin gratefully accepted the beer from the old man. She took a drink then wiped at her mouth. “I’ll have you know that I’m actually pretty great at my job. These guns have torn out more linoleum than you can possibly imagine.” She gave Christen a nice hard flex, partly to be funny, partly because if she was being honest she was pretty proud of the way years of restoring houses had sculpted her arms. She didn’t miss the way Christen’s eyes lingered.

“Bad tiling is the least of your worries.”

“I volunteered in the aftermath of Hurricane Sandy. I know what it’s like to work on a project that people write off as helpless.”

Christen sighed, running her fingers along the rim of her wine glass. “It’s not just the physical aspects of the house.”

Tobin cocked an eyebrow. “Oh?”

“It’s rumored to be haunted.”

Tobins laughter was far too loud for the small bar, but she couldn’t help it. “Haunted? You must be joking.”

Christen pressed her lips together. “Why is that so funny?”

“Because…” She pauses trying to gather her thoughts so she wouldn’t ruin what little chance she had with this girl. “Because ghosts don’t exist, Christen.”

The bartender was the one who laughed this time. “Is that so, missy?”

“Cmon, don’t pull my leg.”

Christen took a sip then smoothed her hands over her dress. “Tell me: what do you know about the history of the building you just bought?”

She shrugged. “Built in 1863 by a banker named William Reed for his beloved wife. They died suddenly, and it went to his daughter, Agatha. She had no children so from there it changed hands multiple times. The owners before me, the Purcells, Purchased it in 2006 but it was foreclosed on in the housing crisis back in ’08.” She grinned at Christen. “What did I miss?”

Christen took a deep breath. “The reason that Agatha Reed had no children was because she was a spinster-”

“So, a lesbian?”

She rolled her eyes. “A _spinster_ ,” she repeated. “She never married. Instead she turned the family home into an orphanage for, and I quote, unwanted children. She named it The Hellebore House after the black and purple Hellebore that she had planted on the property.”

“Sounds like a nice lady.”

“Except she wasn’t. She was incredibly strict and religious, which of course is a euphemism for cruel and abusive. In fact, people at the time suspected that she killed her parents in order to gain control of the house.”

“What? Surely not.”

“Even in the 1800s people didn’t drop dead in their forties when they were otherwise healthy.”

“So what happened to her?”

“She died in the 1890s. She was buried in the town cemetery, but not in her family plot.”

“Spooky.”

“People say that she still remains in the house, that she never made it to the other side. She walks the stairs in a long black dress, so she’s called The Dark Lady.”

Tobin hummed. “So what I’m hearing is that I should name one of the guest rooms after her, and play up the ghost story.”

Christen gave her an exasperated look. “Are you ever serious?”

“Sorry, sorry. So is that it? I just need to be on the lookout for The Dark Lady?”

“No. There’s more.”

“Alright.”

“There’s also a ghost of a little boy who died under Agatha’s care. Do you remember what I told you about her planting Hellebore all around the house?” Tobin nodded. “Well, it’s poisonous. Lethal, actually. But it used to be used in small doses as an emetic for when children had consumed poison or something.” She sighed. “A little boy named Bobby had snuck into the kitchen and ate the sweets that the cook had prepared for a visitation day. So as punishment he was given Hellebore root to make him vomit it up. Except she gave him way too much, and he died.”

“Oh my god.”

“And that’s not legend or speculation. That’s historical fact, there was an investigation and everything.”

Tobin frowned, thinking of her own nephews. “That’s terrible.”

“It is.” The bartender topped off her wine. “Thanks, Al.”

“So what happened next?”

“When Agatha died it went up for sale, but no one had the means or need for such a massive house. So it was eventually purchased by a woman named Dorinda Jacobs, and she operated it as a brothel.”

Tobin raised both eyebrows. “A brothel?”

Christen nodded. “That’s right.”

“Great, so I probably have some ancient strain of syphilis in my pipes.”

She grinned. “At the very least.”

“But that’s it?”

Christen laughed, a beautiful, musical sound. “Of course not. There’s the Hound of Hellebore.”

“Oh you have GOT to be kidding me.”

“What??”

“The Hound of Hellebore? That’s too much.”

The bartender leaned against the bar. “Well, in my day we just called him Bloody Bill.”

Tobin gave him a look. “Not you too.”

He grinned. “Old Bill Caruthers was a nasty man. Mean, violent, a drunk. Was a patron of this place, back when my great grandfather ran it. Needless to say he was a frequent patron of Dorinda’s ladies, but not the most welcomed. One night he accused the girl he’d taken for the evening of stealing money out of his pants when he wasn’t looking. He grabbed her by the throat and put her against the wall. Thankfully, this alerted the occupant of the room next door. She ran in, saw what was happening, and grabbed a bottle off of the dresser. Smashed it and told him to let her friend go or he’d have her to deal with. He laughed, and so she went after him. Slashed him to bits.”

“Jesus…” Tobin whistled lowly. “That’s intense.”

“He’s the one you really need to watch for,” Christen said.

“But he’s just a ghost, right?”

Christen and Al exchanged a look. “It’s never just a ghost, missy.”

“People have reported… being held to the bed. Being knocked to the ground. Doors slamming. Some have even had bruises to show.”

Tobin resisted the urge to roll her eyes. “Any other ghosts I should be on the lookout for?”

“Just Little Baby Blue.”

She sighed, resting her head on her hand. “By all means, continue.”

“Well… we don’t actually know where Little Baby Blue came from. Some think it was the child of one of the working girls, smothered by Dorinda after being delivered so that the girl would go back to work. Others think the baby died naturally. Either way we don’t have records of it, only reports of hearing a baby wailing in the middle of the night, usually signaling that something bad is going to happen.”

Tobin drained the last of her beer, throwing down some cash to cover her bill. “How do you know all of this anyways? Do you run some sort of historical society I should know about?”

Christen gave her a serious look. “No. I’m the great, great granddaughter of the woman that Bloody Bill tried to murder.”

Tobin’s face dropped. “Oh. Oh god, I’m so-” But then Christen burst out laughing.

“I’m only kidding Tobin. I just grew up in this area, I’ve been hearing these stories my whole life.”

She groaned then began to laugh as well. “Very funny. Well, when I get the bed and breakfast up and running, where should I send your invite for the opening?”

Christen smirked at her. “Very smooth. I can usually be found at the Hyatt on Monroe Street. I’m the general manager there.”

Tobin shook her hand again. “Well perhaps I’ll stop by, pick your brain for business ideas. That is, if you’re intimidated by having a competitor.”

Christen laughed again. “Oh Tobin. I hope for your sake you know what you’re doing.”

“I do.” Despite everything she had been told, Tobin still felt confident in her own abilities.

“I’m just saying. It would be an awful shame to lose someone so pretty to the ghosts of Hellebore House.” And with one last smile, she was sliding off her stool and slipping out the door.

A week and a half had passed since the night at the bar. Tobin and her crew had been hard at work, trying to get the remodel done as fast as possible.

It turned out that Christen had been right about the termite damage, and the exterminator took a huge bite out of her already stretched budget. Once the foggers had been cleared out, Tobin decided that an easy way to cut costs would be to move out of the room she had secured at the local motel and just stay on site. There was an old iron bedstead in one of the upstairs rooms, and she went ahead and ordered a new mattress and sheets for it, knowing she would be buying them eventually anyway. She didn’t bother with a blanket or quilt since she got so hot as she slept. She figured this would be for the best anyway; it would allow her to start work as soon as she woke up, not wasting a single moment on travel.

“Sure you don’t want to stay here with me?” she asked Kelley.

This earned her a very dirty look. “And give up a bed to myself, not to mention a functional bathroom?”

“The bathrooms are functional!”

Another dirty look.

“Okay, the toilets are functional. And the new shower heads will be here any day.”

“No thanks.”

“Fine,” she said rolling her eyes. “Are you headed out?” The rest of the crew had already left, Kelley and Tobin hanging back to crunch more numbers and go over plans for the next few days.

Kelley stood up and stretched. “Yeah, I think so. Another perk of staying at the hotel: wifi, so I can facetime my girlfriend before bed.”

“Fine, go, tell her I say hi.”

“I’ll try to slip that in before we get to the good stuff,” Kelley winked.

“Gross, get out of my house.”

“Excuse you, our house! And don’t be mad at me just because you’re not getting laid.”

“GoodBYE, Kelley.”

She listened as she thundered down the stairs and let herself out through the front door. Then she sighed and laid back on the drop cloth covering the wood floors. Kelley was right about one thing: she hadn’t had sex in a while. She’d broken up with her ex over a year ago, and apart from when they had stupidly fallen back into bed with each other a few months later, she had been on her own.

She closed her eyes, thinking back to the time they had rented the cabin in the mountains. Her body seemed to kick into overdrive as she thought about the jacuzzi tub, and suddenly she wasn’t picturing her ex straddling her, but the woman from the bar, Christen. Her brain was more than happy to picture what she would look like, hair clipped up, skin silky and smooth, the bubbles just barely covering her-

_Crash._

She jerked upright, heart pounding. She pulled herself to her feet and hurried downstairs. The front door had blown open, Kelley no doubt having forgotten to lock it behind her. Tobin shut it firmly and fiddled with the latch, making sure it was catching correctly. She slid the deadbolt into place along with the chain, then headed into the kitchen.

She sighed, stopping in the doorway. Every single cabinet door was open. She shut them all then hopped up onto the counter, taking a sip from her water bottle. She pulled out her phone and googled the Hyatt. The thumb hovered over the call button; what exactly did she think she was going to say? ‘Hi, this is Tobin from the other night. We’ve stopped work for the day and I’m covered in dirt and sawdust and who knows what else, but I was wondering if you would want to come over so I could fuck your brains out.’

She put her phone back in her pocket and trudged upstairs. She couldn’t take a cold shower, so a lukewarm bath would have to do.

The bathroom off of the Violet room was the most intact. It had a modern toilet (no doubt installed by the Purcell’s during the short time they lived in the house) and the sink atop the vanity had no visible cracks. Unlike the bedroom, whose floral wallpaper had lead to its name, the walls in this room were painted a dark midnight blue, a stark contrast to the white tile.

Tobin sat in the clawfoot bathtub and scrubbed at her skin until it was pink.

Tomorrow the window specialist was coming, and they would tell her how many could be saved and how many must be replaced. She hoped it would only be a few, but she had felt enough drafts throughout the house that she wasn’t holding her breath.

She dipped below the water to rinse off, then stayed under, trying to push away her mounting anxiety about whether or not she was foolish to take on this massive of a project. She opened her eyes and was met with the face of an old woman.

She sat up, gasping, coughing, and found the bathroom empty. She wiped at her face, sucking in oxygen.

Fuck the cute girl from the bar. She had gotten into Tobin’s head in more way than one, leaving her horny and easily spooked. She pulled the plug on the tub and wrapped up in a towel, making her way back to the Dahlia room.

After drying off and putting her pajamas on, she had calmed down enough to make a pass around the house, making sure it was locked up for the night. As she passed from the front door to the dining room, she saw a shadow on the stairs. She whipped around to find nothing there.

She groaned. “Oh, watch out for The Dark Lady, she walks the stairs, looking for children to cook and eat,” she grumbled to herself in a mocking tone. She continued into the dining room, checking the side door and making sure it was locked. She began to whistle under her breath, running her hand along the wall as she walked back out and flipped off the light. As she began to walk to the other side of the house, she suddenly heard a loud thump behind her.

She slowly turned around. She was suddenly very aware that this was the first time she would be in the house by herself, overnight. She swallowed. It would be fine. It was just a fucking house.

She began to make her way back to the kitchen and flicked on the light.

Every single cabinet door was wide open, as if someone had just been in the room.

As if a child had just been in the room.

As if a child had snuck into the room and been searching for something sweet to eat.

 _No._ She forced herself to abandon the very thought. She turned off the light and turned on her heel. She took the stairs two at a time and didn’t look back.

She slammed the door to the Dahlia room closed and leaned against it. She could see her reflection in the window, could see just how shaken she looked. She let out a deep breath and looked around the room. It was the largest of all of their suites, and had probably served as the master bedroom. It didn’t have much, just the iron bedstead and a few old paintings that Kelley had found in the attic. Tobin’s duffel bag was thrown against the far wall, next to the closet, with some of her clothes and a pair of Nikes spilling out of it.

She walked to the window and leaned her head against it, letting the cold glass cool her down. She was stressed. She was worried about them running out of money, about not being able to remodel the house the way it deserved, of not having the proper skills to run it as a real business. Her anxieties were getting the best of her. That’s all this was.

She sniffed and tried to think of what her mother would say if she was here. _Probably to comb your hair and find a nice girl to settle down with._ She snorted at the thought. She should call her mom in the morning. She had a tendency to get so wrapped up in her projects that she would go weeks or even months without checking in at home.

She started to turn away from the window when she heard something that chilled her to the bone.

A baby crying, somewhere out in the darkness.

She turned back to the window, staring down at the backyard below, trying to see anything in the near pitch black darkness.

The cry came again.

 _It’s in your head._ She turned away, resisting the urge to press her hands over her ears. She turned off the lights and crawled into bed, plugging in her phone and turning on a soccer podcast, turning the volume up until she couldn’t hear anything else. She forced herself to roll over and not let Christen’s words bounce around her head: _it usually signals that something bad is going to happen._

She woke up several hours later, her body hot and sweaty, tangled in the sheets. She kept her eyes firmly shut, trying to fall directly back into the strange dream she had been having, something about astronauts throwing a party on the moon. She tried to roll over into a more comfortable position, but couldn’t move.

She groaned low in her throat. She wanted to sleep. She needed to sleep. Otherwise she wouldn’t be able to get through tomorrow’s work day. Her eyes fluttered open, then her mouth stretched wide in a silent scream of terror.

His face was terrible. Pale, sunken. His eyes were so dark that the iris wasn’t distinguishable from the pupil. His lips, horribly chapped, stretched into a terrible smile, his breath hitting her in a terrible stench. She realized that the reason she couldn’t move was because her arms were being held above her head, pinned to the mattress. His nails dug into the skin of her wrists. She whimpered, her entire body shaking.

His breath came out in a wheeze as his face loomed closer. It took several moments before her horrified mind could identify the noise as a word.

“Mine.”

Something deep within her cracked and she managed to throw herself from the bed. She fumbled to the ground and crawled away from the bed, only daring to look back at the bed when she reached the wall.

Nothing. The room was empty.

She heaved herself to her feet, and shoved her feet into the Nikes at her feet. Barely pausing to grab her phone and slip it into the pocket of her basketball shorts, she threw open her door, half expecting to see him on the other side of the door.

Nothing.

She ran across the landing then skidded to a stop at the top of the stairs.

A woman wearing a long, dark dress was floating towards her, her severe bun making her look much older than Agatha actually had been when she died. She turned to run the other way, towards the servants’ stairs but froze. Standing just inside the doorway of the Orchid room, was the man. He grinned at her, apparently unconcerned with the blood pouring from the gashes covering his body.

“Mine,” he wheezed again.

She sprinted to the other staircase, dashing down, jumping the last several. She made for the front door, her shaking hands fumbling with the chain and deadbolt. She could feel a force behind her, something coming for her. She ripped the door open finally and threw herself out into the chilly October air.

She jumped into her work truck and grabbed the keys from the cup holder, jamming it into the ignition. She took just one moment to gaze back at the house, the front door hanging open like a gaping mouth. She threw the truck in gear and sped away, tossing up rocks in her wake.

She considered going to the motel where Kelley was staying, but she knew that she wouldn’t believe her. She would laugh at Tobin, the same way that Tobin had laughed at Christen-

Christen.

She took a sharp left turn, earning a honk from an indignant motorist. It felt like her entire body was being wracked with chills. She saw the Hyatt sign in the distance and gripped the steering wheel tighter.

The lobby was beautiful. Polished metals, clean lines, soothing colors. It was high end, and she could see how it would seem luxurious to a tired traveler making their way inside.

The front desk attendant looked alarmed by Tobin’s frazzled appearance. “Ma’am?”

“I’m sorry, I, I know that I can’t just, can’t just walk in here. But please, I need-”

“Ma’am you’re not wearing a shirt!”

She looked down to realize that, sure enough, she was still just wearing shorts and a sports bra, the same as when she went to sleep. “Please, is she here? I need to talk to-”

“Tobin?” Her frantic rambling had drawn Christen out of her office, and she was now staring at her, concerned.

“You were right. You were, I’m so sorry, I should have believed you! I should have- I never should have stayed overnight!”

“Alright, just take a deep breath, come with me, alright?” Christen wrapped an arm around her trembling shoulders and held up a hand to her employee. “It’s okay, Mal. Everything is fine.” She guided her into her office and onto her couch, shutting the door behind her. “What happened?”

“I thought you were… I thought you were being silly. I never would have suspected… But it was there! I saw him!”

“Tobin, take a deep breath. You saw who?”

She looked up at her, the tears beginning to pour down her cheeks. “The Hound of Hellebore House.” She stretched out her hands, showing Christen the reddening marks on her wrists. Christen placed her hand over her mouth, tracing a fingertip over the skin.

“Oh my god.”

“What do I do? How am I supposed to go back? What the fuck am I going to do?”

Christen moved to sit next to her on the couch, wrapping her arms around her and pulling her close. “I don’t know. I’m so sorry. I really don’t know.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tumblr: @thetheatrelady


	5. The Hoodlums

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They were ten years old and on top of the world. They were young. They were free.
> 
> They were the Hoodlums.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Hoodlums  
> Pairing: NA  
> Genre: Fluff/Coming of Age  
> Rating: K+  
> TW: none

Ashlyn rode up on her bike, quickly hitting the brakes and skidding on the gravel. She brought her hands up to her mouth.

“Ca caw! Ca caw!” Sure it would probably be much easier to just go up Pinoe’s door and knock, but where was the fun in that? A window flew open on the second floor.

“Ca caw!” A bag was thrown to the ground and a small body wriggled out the window, quickly climbing the trellis and dropping to the ground. Right as they landed, the front door opened.

“Megan Anna! I told you to quit going out the window! Use the front door like a normal person!” a woman yelled, her hands on her hips.

“Sorry!” her daughter yelled over her shoulder, not sorry in the slightest.

“Hi Mrs. Rapinoe!” Ashlyn hollered.

“Hi Ashlyn. You girls be careful tonight, you hear? No funny business!”

“Yes ma’am,” they chorused, Megan grabbing her bike from where it had been abandoned without a second thought on the grass.

“I’m serious, don’t you miss curfew!”

“I won’t, Ma!” She hopped onto her bike and she and Ashlyn set off down the street.

They rode until they arrive at Ali and Kyle’s house. They found Christen on the front step, a book perched on her knees.

“Where’s Ali and Tobs?” Ashlyn asked.

“Ali’s inside arguing with her mom. No sign of Tobin yet,” Christen answered, pushing her glasses up her nose. She was what teachers liked to call ‘a pleasure to have in class:’ incredibly smart, unfailingly polite, and a diligent student. Unfortunately, when combined with her shy tendencies and classic middle child personality, this also made her a bit of an easy target for bullies. Five years from now, Christen Press would show up for the first day of sophomore year having bloomed over the summer. Her growth spurt would leave her long and lean, and her new contacts would suddenly let people see her gorgeous green eyes. The popular girls would invite her to their parties. The boys who had once teased her mercilessly would trip over themselves to ask her to homecoming. However, that was still five years away.

“Hmm. She said she was going to get to come tonight.” Ashlyn peered up and down the street.

Pinoe rolled her eyes, jumping up and hanging from a tree branch. “Her dad probably changed his mind.”

“We’re not even going to be doing anything bad,” Christen agreed. “…right?”

Ash and Pinoe gave her their most innocent looks, the ones that said they were most definitely lying. “Of course not!”

The door opened. “Okay, fine!” Ali yelled back into the house.

“I’m serious, Alexandra-”

“I’m leaving now!” She slammed the door behind her.

“What was that about?” Pinoe asked.

Ali huffed, plopping down on the steps next to Christen. “My mom found the make up I bought at the drug store and freaked out. She said I can’t wear anything until I’m thirteen, not even mascara. And that’s not fair! I have a summer birthday!” The moment Ali Krieger turned thirteen, she truly would begin applying make up every single morning. It would become something like armor, something to protect herself from the world. She would grow to hate the sight of her face in the mirror, seeing nothing but her perceived flaws. But right now, make up was just something pretty, something many ten year olds are sure will help them look very grown up.

She sighed, looking at the new additions for the first time. “Pinoe, are you wearing a wig?”

She grinned, pushing her hood further back. “Nope! My sister got me some of that temporary hair dye.” She brushed her hands over the bright pink strands. “Do you like it?”

“Dude, it’s sick!” Ashlyn said.

Christen chewed on her lip. “Aren’t you supposed to be careful about dying blonde hair? Because it’s affected differently than other colors?”

Pinoe waved a hand nonchalantly. “Relax, Pressy. It’s all going to wash out in the shower tonight!” It would not wash out in the shower that night. It would, however, stain the bathtub in the upstairs bathroom pale pink, leading to Pinoe having to scrub it out every night for nearly two weeks, and Mrs. Rapinoe having to take a vacation day from work to take her to an emergency hair salon appointment.

Christen straightened up from her perch on the porch, pointing towards the street. “Tobin!” The other three turned to see the last member of their group riding up on her bike.

“Dude where have you been?” Ashlyn asked.

Tobin gave a heavy sigh. “My mom had said I could come but my dad wanted me to stay home. He said he didn’t want me to be too tired for church tomorrow.” In twenty years, after having nearly a bottle of wine a piece, Tobin’s mother would admit that even by this young age, they had suspected Tobin might not be straight. She explained that this was why her dad seemed to be harder on Tobin than her siblings, and why he had insisted they be so involved at church. Her mother apologized, saying she should have been more openly supportive, but it would be several more years, after she had her own child, until Tobin would finally forgive her father.

“But you’re here now!” Ashlyn declared, throwing her arm around Tobin’s shoulders. “Which means we can officially start Halloween night 2020: The Year of the Hoodlums!” The five of them had been friends since they were all put in the same kindergarten class. They had become pretty much inseparable, and Ashlyn’s grandpa had once gruffly declared them to be a bunch of hoodlums in training. Instead of being cowed, the girls had taken ownership of the name, declaring that the Hoodlums would someday rule the world. Indeed, all five girls would go on to change the world, each in their own way. Because we love to point towards the Joan of Arcs and Ruth Bader Ginsburgs of the world, but the truth is that we can all make a difference. We provide homes for children that need them, we raise money for charities, we become doctors and researchers, we vote for the people we think will best represent our interests on a local and national level. We all have a little bit of hero in our veins, but we must first fight the fear, the pain, the addiction.

“So what are we doing tonight?” Tobin asked.

Ashlyn shrugged her backpack off and opened it, revealing several half rolls of toilet paper. Pinoe patted her own bag as if to say there was more.

“What are we going to do with those?” Christen asked worriedly.

Ashlyn stuck out her chin. “We’re going to Honkle’s house.” Jaelene Hinkle was a girl who had also been in their class since kindergarten, but she was generally considered an anti-Hoodlum. She was somehow both a mean girl and a teacher’s pet, meaning she could dish out but the moment you tried to respond she would start to cry and tell on you. Ashlyn turned to Ali. “At least, if that’s okay with you.” Honkle had been particularly bad lately, saying very mean, snide things about Ali’s older brother, Kyle. She called him all kinds of names and had assured Ali that her brother was going to hell.

Ali’s lips curled into a smile. “Let’s get her.” She tilted her head to one side. “But, Honkle lives all the way across town, it’ll take ages to walk there.”

Ashlyn jerked her thumb over her shoulder. “Our bikes.”

“But my bike has a flat, remember? And my dad hasn’t fixed it yet.”

“Well then you can ride on my handlebars!” Ashlyn decided. “C’mon, climb up.” A few moments later, the five were setting off down the street.

TPing a house is one of those things that you see on TV and in movies all the time, but is actually much more complicated in real life. The toilet paper always seems to break for one thing, and you have to very careful not to get caught. In fact, it was still light out when the Hoodlums arrived at the Hinkle house. But this didn’t stop them from stashing the bikes further down the street and sneaking towards their target.

It was decided that Christen would serve as lookout, with the other four firing the rolls of toilet paper as hard as they could into the giant tree in Hinkle’s front yard. Unfortunately, they were fifth graders, so even as hard as they could wasn’t really that hard. They were having fun though, laughing and teasing each other about their throwing abilities. That is, until Hinkle’s dad came out and spotted them.

“Hey! What are you little punks doing?!”

They all turned on their heels and ran, grabbing Christen along the way. They hopped on their bikes and let out loud whoops as they sailed down the street. The sun glinted off the metal of their bikes, and the wind blew their hair out of their faces. They were young. They were fierce. They were free.

They ended up grabbing sacks from Ali’s house and going out trick or treating, paying no mind to the adults who gave them slightly disapproving looks, either at them not being in costume, or considering them a little too old to be asking for candy.

Back in Ali’s basement, they began the complex trading system every kid is familiar with, bartering skittles for snickers, taffy for twix, bubble gum for butterfingers.

Ashlyn popped a starburst into her mouth as she laid on her stomach on he carpet. “Halloween is the best holiday.”

“What about Christmas?” Tobin asked.

“But the candy!”

“But the presents!”

Ashlyn rolled onto her back, focusing on unwrapping another starburst. “I just love candy. I can’t get enough. I’m like a sugar monster,” she laughed. Years later, this tiny seed of ‘more more more’ would turn into a predisposition for addiction. Ashlyn would struggle with alcohol and pills alike, always in search of that next tiny rush, the thrill of being alive. But for now, she was ten, and one more reese’s cup wouldn’t hurt her.

“Do you think we’ll be friends forever?” Christen asked.

Pinoe glanced away from the TV where she was trying to find something appropriately scary for them to watch. “Duh. Of course we will.”

“Are you sure?”

“It might be harder, like when we go to high school,” Ali mused. “There will be lots of other people, and we might not be in the same classes.”

“I don’t want to be friends with anyone but you guys,” Tobin said quietly.

Christen reached over and squeezed her hand. “It’s okay, Tobin.”

Ashlyn grinned. “Of course it’s okay. We’re the Hoodlums! Ca caw!”

“Ca caw!” Pinoe answered, turning back to the television just in time to have the crap scared out of her by Michael Myers, letting out a shriek.

“Girls?” Mrs. Krieger called down the stairs. “Is everything okay?”

Ali rolled her eyes. “We’re fine, Mom!” The Krieger women would find themselves at each other’s throats almost constantly over the next decade, especially after Ali’s parents announce they’re getting divorced. They would be okay eventually, even close, but that didn’t mean that Deb Krieger didn’t want to throttle her own child on this particular night.

The five girls crowded onto the couch, burying themselves beneath fuzzy blankets as they settled in to watch Halloween. It was too old for them of course, and at least two would go on to have nightmares about it (although they would never admit it.) But in this moment, everything was fine. They were happy and healthy, and had consumed enough sugar to stay up for days. They weren’t yet worrying about boys or girls or their parents or college or having kids of their own. The heartbreak and pregnancy scares and acne and disappointments and such could wait for another day. They were ten years old and best friends, with nothing but a bright future ahead of them. They were the Hoodlums.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tumblr: @thetheatrelady


	6. The Never Ending Game

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It was all supposed to be a game.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Never Ending Game  
> Pairing: NA  
> Genre: Horror  
> Rating: T  
> TW: none

Kristie Mewis pulled up to the edge of the woods, peering out the window. “What are you guys going to do, anyway?”

Sam clambered out of the passenger side door then tilted the seat forward, letting the three teen girls who were crammed into the tiny back seat crawl out. “Y’know. Hang out. Mess around.”

Kristie gave them all a very unimpressed look. “Ooookay. Well call Dad when you’re done playing hide and go seek or whatever, I’m going to a party like a normal person.”

“Yeah, okay, bye.” Sam shut the door and Kristie peeled out, throwing up gravel as she did.

Mal looked down at the flashlight in her hand, methodically flicking it on and off. Kelley hadn’t really explained what they were doing, only to meet at the edge of the woods behind the high school and bring a flashlight for everyone. She said that she, Emily, and Morgan would walk over since they lived just a few streets away.

“I’m kinda hungry,” Sam announced. She walked over to where Rose was digging around in her backpack. “Rosie do you have any food?”

Rose rolled her eyes. “Didn’t you just eat dinner?”

“Yeah, but that doesn’t mean I don’t want dessert.” She craned her neck, trying to get a peek. “Ooh is that an oatmeal crème pie?”

“It’s mine,” Rose warned, with enough force that Sam, who was half a foot taller, backed away.

“Where are they?” Mal asked. “I thought we were supposed to be here at nine?”

“They must be running late,” Lindsey shrugged.

“Yoohoo!” They all turned to see three figures walking closer, one waving her arm above her head like an idiot.

Lindsey laughed. “Do you think Sonny goes anywhere without acting like a total clown?”

Mal shook her head. “I don’t think it’s possible.”

Kelley switched her flashlight on and placed it under her chin, pulling a gruesome face. “It’s a spoOoOoOoky Halloween!”

Rose gave her an unimpressed look. “It’s the 19th.”

“Linessi!”

“Dasani”

The group waited for Sonny and Lindsey to finish their complicated handshake. “Okay so what are we doing?” Mal asked.

Kelley grinned. “We’re going to play a little game called Deadman’s Tag.”

Sam gave her a concerned look. “What?”

“It’s super easy. We pick a home base.” She turned and scanned the tree line. “That one, probably. The tall one,” she clarified as she pointed at a pale Aspen tree.

“The Sam tree,” Emily grinned.

“We’ll start there and everyone yells ‘You’re it!’ and then-”

“Wait who’s it?” Morgan asked.

“Just listen!” Kelley yelled, getting a little annoyed. “We all yell it into the trees. Then we split up and everyone walks forward, counting to twenty five, then you hide. When you get bored or feel like something is after you, you yell ‘Home free!’ and take off for home base, the Sam tree.”

“What would be coming after us? The most dangerous thing in there is a bunny rabbit,” Rose snarked, folding her arms across her chest.

“I don’t know Rose, you look like a bunny rabbit but you’re probably the most psychotic one here,” Sam teased. “Well, after Kelley,” she added thoughtfully.

“Does everyone get it?”

“I guess?” Morgan said, glancing around. “I still don’t really understand what we’re running from.”

“Just… try it,” Kelley demanded. “it’s fun, I promise. Alright, everyone to the Sam tree!”

They all started forward, Sam grumbling “Can we go back to calling it home base?” under her breath.

They all laid their hands on the trees pale bark and turned to stare into the darkness enveloping the woods. Mal felt her pulse begin to speed up and she rolled her eyes. _It’s just some dumb game,_ she reminded herself. _I don’t think Kelley is even remembering all of the rules._

“Okay, ‘you’re it’ on three. One, two, three-”

“YOU’RE IT!” They all shrieked, scaring off a few birds in the process.

Kelley grinned at the rest of them. “Alright, everyone split up and walk out into the trees, hide when you count to twenty five-”

“And yell home free when we get bored and want to come back, we’ve got it, Kel,” Lindsey shifted her weight from side to side. “Let’s just go.”

Mal began to pick her way through the trees, aiming her flashlight towards the ground, wary of tripping over a tree limb. When she reached twenty five, she crouched behind what looked like an overgrown bush. She switched off her flashlight and raised her eyes to the sky. The trees did a pretty good job of forming a canopy, but she could still see a few stars peeking out. She sighed, running her tongue over her braces. What was she supposed to do while she sat here?

Her phone buzzed in her pocket and her heart leapt, thinking it might be Dansby. She pulled it out and was disappointed when it was just an Instagram notification. She opened the app and began to scroll, her mind on the boy in the grade above her. Sometimes she thought he really liked her and was going to ask her out, but other times she wasn’t so sure. She also wasn’t sure what her dad would think about her dating a boy with a car.

“Mal!” she heard Kelley hiss from nearby. “Put your phone up and quit stalking me on instagram! Get your head in the game!”

Sam’s voice from Mal’s left immediately piped in with, “U gotta, get'cha get'cha head in the game, we gotta-”

“Stop it!” Kelley demanded. She groaned. “You guys suck. Home free!” The last part was loud enough for everyone to hear her. Mal shoved her phone back in her pocket and picked up her flashlight, beginning to pick her way back to the Sam tree.

They all arrived back to find a less than impressed Kelley. “If you guys don’t get into the spirit of it, then it’s not going to be any fun,” she sulked, her arms crossed.

“The spirit of what? It’s a stupid game,” Rose replied.

Mal saw the flash of hurt on Kelley’s face, and apparently so did Lindsey because she put her arm around the older girl’s shoulders, pulling her into her side. “C’mon guys. Lets play for real.” Mal wondered, not for the first time, if there was something going on between the two. The kids at school had been quick to suss out that Emily wasn’t exactly interested in guys, and had made lots of mean jokes at the expense of her and Lindsey’s close friendship. Mal however thought it was far more likely that Emily was too shy to do anything, and that if Lindsey was hooking up with anyone during her frequent breaks from her on again-off again boyfriend, it was a certain freckled upper classman.

Everyone grumbled their agreement and turned to face the trees, screaming to something hiding in the darkness to join the game. Mal took a different route this time, and when she reached twenty five, she slipped behind a tree.

A cold wind suddenly blew hard through the woods, making her shiver, making her skin break out in goosebumps, and just like that, she got it. She understood the creepy appeal of the game.

Sam’s slightly panicked voice rang through the darkness. “Home free!” Mal turned and began to run back to home base, laughing as she did.

She arrived to find Lindsey bent over, hands on her knees, trying to catch her breath as Rose laughed.

“How are you so fast? My legs are as long as your entire body!” Lindsey grumbled.

Sam meanwhile was peering behind her. “Guys, something touched me!”

Sonny began to bop from side to side. “Touch my body, put me on the floooor-”

“I’m serious!” Her face was pinched. “I was sitting there and then suddenly touched my leg!”

“Well what do you expect? We did ask it to join the game,” Kelley grinned.

Morgan put her hand on Sam’s elbow. “I’m sure it was like… a squirrel or something. Maybe a mouse.”

“A mouse?!” Sam all but shrieked.

“Are we ready to go again?” Lindsey asked, bending her legs and stretching as if getting ready for a race. “I’m gonna beat you back this time, Rose.”

“Good luck,” Rose smiled.

“You’re it!” they all yelled.

Mal once again began to walk forward, shining her flashlight into the now pitch black undergrowth. She reached a fallen tree and crouched behind it, taking a deep breath. Now it was time to wait.

There was a rustling beside her, alerting her to someone’s presence. “Em?” she asked. “Morgan?” They didn’t answer, instead settling in beside her. “This game is more fun than I thought it would be.”

No answer.

“I don’t think we’re supposed to be hiding together, though,” she mused. “Oh well. We just won’t tell Kelley.”

They still didn’t answer.

“What’s wrong? Are you scared?”

Suddenly something gripped her wrist, sending chills down her spine. She pulled her arm out of it’s grip and shot to her feet, barely able to force her lips to form the words, “Home free!” before taking off at a full sprint.

Her breath was caught in her chest as if frozen there, leading her to feel as if she was suffocating as she ran. She was almost back to the Sam tree when her foot caught on a tree root, sending her sprawling forward with a scream. She immediately rolled onto her back, clutching at her ankle as she sucked in breath after breath.

Suddenly Lindsey was staring down at her. “Are you alright?”

“No,” she managed to groan through her clenched teeth. “My ankle, fuck!”

By now the rest of the group had joined them and were either staring down at where she was writhing in pain or looking sheepishly at each other. “I better call my mom,” Sam finally said.

“Yeah…” Emily agreed.

Kelley offered her a hand, and Morgan did the same, and they gently pulled her to stand on her uninjured foot. They ducked beneath her arms and helped her hobble back towards the high school as Sam called her mom to come and pick them up.

Mrs. Mewis was less than impressed when she arrived on the scene. She was still wearing her scrubs from working as a nurse down at the county hospital, and she placed her hands on her hips. “What were you thinking? I know you girls are smart enough not to go wandering into the woods at night!”

“We were just playing a game,” Kelley offered guiltily.

Mrs Mewis knelt in front of where Mal was sitting and began to examine her ankle. Mal couldn’t help but hiss in pain. “Well, the good news is that it isn’t broken, just a nasty sprain. Do you have an ace bandage at home?” She nodded. “Good. When you get home, wrap it up, elevate it, and ice it for twenty minutes every two to three hours.” She turned to the rest of them. “Help get Mal in the front seat and then pile into the back, I’ll take you home.”

“We live just a few blocks away, we can walk,” Kelley offered, pointing at herself, Emily, and Morgan. The other two nodded.

“Okay, but go straight home. No more nonsense tonight.”

Not wanting to argue, all three waved goodbye then turned on their heels, setting off down the street. Sam and Lindsey helped get Mal to the Mewis’s minivan. Once they were all inside, Sam’s mom began to drive them home.

“Aw man, I think I left my flashlight,” Rose complained.

“You can get it after school on Monday,” Lindsey told her.

“I don’t like the idea of you girls being in those woods at all!” Mrs. Mewis said sternly. “Just because they’re next to the high school doesn’t mean they’re safe. Who knows what’s lurking about in there? You could have been bitten by a snake or something much worse.”

“Yeah, like Kelley,” Rose joked. Lindsey gave her a little shove and Mal laughed, watching her four classmates through the rear view mirror.

Wait… four?

Her eyes darted between them. Rose, Lindsey, Sam, and Morgan.

That couldn’t be right.

“Moe?” she asked, almost to herself. The blonde, who had been staring out the window, turned, and Mal gasped when she saw the way her eyes were completely white.

Whatever had grabbed her in the woods had decided to follow them home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tumblr: @thetheatrelady


	7. The Pumpkin

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tobin Heath NEEDS a pumpkin spice latte.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Pumpkin  
> Pairing: Preath  
> Genre: Fluff  
> Rating: T  
> TW: none

Portland had already turned chilly, forcing businesses to turn on their heaters, fogging up the windows. Tobin was met with a wall of hot, sweet air as soon as she stepped inside, forcing her to take off her beanie. She got into line and quickly counted the eight people in front of her. She jammed her hands into her pockets. Eight people was nothing! They would put in their orders, she would make her way to the front of line, she would be out of here in no time flat.

Easy peasy lemon squeezy.

“Hi, welcome to Starbucks! What can I get started for you today?” The brunette’s nametag said her name was Tierna.

“Hey, I need a grande decaf pumpkin spice latte please!”

Her face twisted into a sympathetic grimace. “Ooh, sorry. No pumpkin spice today.”

“Wait, what?”

“Yeah, sorry we didn’t get our shipment.”

“Shit,” she whispered under her breath.

“Can I get you something else? Have you tried the caramel apple spice latter?”

“No, it’s not for me. Thanks though.”

“Sorry, have a good day!” Tobin smiled and jammed her beanie back on. She pulled out her phone as she walked back to her car. She typed Starbucks into google maps and clicked on the next closest one. So she would be a little late getting back- it would all be fine!

She was just one person away from the front of the line when she watched as an employee climbed onto a stool, placing a sign over the picture the pumpkin spice latte saying that they were out.

“What?” she yelped without thinking.

The pink haired woman turned around and raised an eyebrow at her. “Sorry, someone ordered the last one.”

Tobin groaned. “You don’t understand. I need a pumpkin spice latte.”

The woman and her coworkers laughed. “You and every other white woman in Portland, babe.”

Tobin sighed, once again pulling out her phone. It didn’t matter if she had to fight all of the aforementioned residents of Portland; she needed to get her hands on a pumpkin spice latte. Life as she knew it depended on it.

Another Starbucks, another line. She folded her arms across her chest and took a deep breath. The speakers were playing I Put a Spell On You, and she nodded her head along, mouthing along to the lyrics she was now hearing for the third time.

Surely they would have the pumpkin spice lattes. They had to. They must! It was only the most popular drink of the season. How did this damn company even stay in business if they couldn’t maintain supply for the drink they were known for?

“Next in line!” She stepped forward and gave the barista a nervous smile.

“Hi. How are you?”

“I’m good, thanks. What can I get for you?”

She looked at her nametag. “Well Ali, I’m praying that you guys have pumpkin spice lattes.”

The brunette’s eyes brightened. “Wait, did you just go to the Starbucks on Burnside?”

She sighed. Great. She was now officially the topic of conversation in some Starbucks employee group chat. “Yes. So do you have it or not?”

She turned and yelled over her shoulder. “Crystal! What’s the status on PSL?”

Her coworker picked up a bottle of syrup and peered at the bottom. “I have enough for one more.”

Tobin’s eyes lit up. “I’ll take it! One grande decaf pumpkin spice latte, please.”

“Alright!” She hit a few buttons. “That will be $5.68.” Tobin slid her card in and punched in her pin. Ali handed her a receipt and she moved to the end of the counter. She took another deep breath as she watched Crystal go about making the drink. She was almost finished when a third barista came out of the back, singing obnoxiously.

“This is Halloween! This is- woah!” Her foot had caught on the leg of the fridge, sending her sprawling forward. She collided directly with Crystal, sending the drink in her hand flying through the air as they both tumbled to the ground. Tobin could have cried as she watched the hot coffee splatter across the counters and walls.

“Emily!” Crystal yelled from the ground.

The younger girl helped her to her feet, her cheeks red with embarrassment. “I’m so sorry, Crystal! I didn’t, I tripped! I didn’t mean to! Here, I’ll remake that drink for you.”

The other girl sighed. “You can’t. That was the last of out pumpkin spice flavoring.”

“Oh.”

All three employees turned to look at Tobin.

“So what do I do?” Tobin asked, past caring about how whiny she sounded. “I already paid for it and I _need_ that drink. Like, I understand what that sounds like, but I really do need it. Like, I am going to be in such deep shit if I don’t come back with her latte.”

Crystal gave her a sympathetic look. “You’re an assistant, aren’t you? For one of those pushy CEO types?”

Tobin nodded, willing to say whatever she needed to in order to get her hands on this stupid fucking drink.

Ali whipped her cell phone out of her apron. “Listen. Go to the Strabucks on Powell. I know-“ she held up a hand when Tobin made a face. “I know it’s far away, but I can have it ready and waiting for you, so you don’t have to wait any longer. Okay? A grande decaf pumpkin spice latte. Go!” She pointed at the door and Tobin turned on her heel, heading in the specified direction.

She threw open the door and was relieved to see a woman with her blonde hair up in a bun standing near the end of the counter. “Grande decaf pumpkin spice latte for Tobin?”

She let out a breath she hadn’t even been aware she was holding. She walked forward. “Oh God. Thank you so much. Seriously, you don’t even know.”

“No worries, dude. Sorry for the chaos, here: a blueberry muffin on the house.” She handed over the paper sleeve and Tobin considered giving her a kiss.

“Thank you so-”

The woman pointed at the door. “Go!”

Once again, Tobin found herself running for her car, but this time she finally had the coffee in hand. She placed it carefully in her cup holder, then threw her car into gear, practically peeling out of the parking lot. She drove carefully, but that didn’t mean she wasn’t tapping her fingers on her steering wheel, urging the traffic around her to hurry up.

She pulled into her driveway and put the car in park before carefully picking up the coffee and muffin then carried them inside.

“Tobin?” she heard as she kicked the door shut behind her.

“I’m here baby!” She toed off her shoes and placed her beanie and keys on the side table. “I’m sorry it took me so long- be careful!” She quickly placed the latte to the side and hurried forward, giving Christen her hands.

“I’m not an invalid, Tobin” she huffed. “I’m just pregnant.”

And pregnant she most definitely was. Approximately 41 weeks pregnant, in fact. Christen had been increasingly vocal about the fact that she felt huge, that her ankles were swollen, that her skin itched, and overall just felt awful. To Tobin however, she had never looked more beautiful, especially in this orange tee shirt with the jack o’ lantern across her round stomach. She looked as if she was smuggling a pumpkin around underneath her shirt. She helped her to her feet and gently kissed her lips.

“I got your coffee.”

“Did you get decaf? Because I can’t have caffeine.”

“I know, baby.” She grabbed the coffee and handed it over. “One grande decaf pumpkin spice latte, for the most beautiful woman in the world.” Christen’s eyes immediately filled with tears. “Oh no, don’t cry!”

“You’re so sweet to me, and I don’t even deserve it,” she cried.

Tobin wiped under her eyes with her thumbs. “You do deserve it, because you’re my wife, and the mother of my child, and I love you so, so much.” She leaned in to give her another kiss and suddenly her feet were warm and wet. She sighed, her eyes still closed. “Do you want me to go get you another coffee?’ she asked resignedly.

“Um… no.”

Tobin opened her eyes to find the cup still clutched in Christen’s hand. “What…”

“I… I think my water just broke,” Christen said in a small, concerned voice. Tobin broke out in possibly the widest smile ever seen.

“I’ll grab the bag, let’s get you to the car.”

Christen took a few steps towards the door. “Okay, but I’m drinking my coffee on the way to the hospital!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tumblr: @thetheatrelady


	8. The Box

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> While searching for something fun to do, Rose and her friends stumble upon an old wooden box in her grandmother's attic. What could possible go wrong?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Box  
> Pairing: NA  
> Genre: Horror  
> Rating: T  
> TW: ouija board, very very brief mention of sexual assault

Rose Lavelle walked the long hallway, running her fingers along the wall as she did so. It had been just three short months since her grandmother had passed away. Her mother, the only daughter, inherited the giant old house, and so Rose, her parents, and her three siblings packed up their belongings and moved in. Her older sister, Honora, had grumbled on and on about how they had moved further away from her boyfriend, but Rose didn’t mind. Living in the three level Victorian home meant that not only could she have her own room, she could have multiple rooms if she wanted.

The doorbell rang, and she quickly hurried down the stairs. Crossing the foyer, she pulled it open to reveal her best friends in the entire world.

First in was Emily, smiling as always in her sunflower print jumper with the navy blue shirt underneath. Her bag was swinging wildly from her shoulder as she skipped by. Next was Sam, taller than even Rose’s dad, her blonde hair held back with a ribbon headband. Finally was Lindsey, her long blonde hair loose around her shoulders apart from a few decorative braids. Her long legs seemed to stretch for miles beyond the hem of her tiny plaid skirt. Rose rolled her eyes as she shut the door.

“You better count yourself lucky I’m the only one home. If my mother saw you in that, she’d have a cow.”

Lindsey glanced down, unconcerned. “I got written up for it today at school, but it’s not my fault that my legs are so much longer than everyone else’s.”

Sam sighed. “I feel you. Mother has to make all of my skirts and dresses because the store bought ones are practically indecent.”

“Besides,” Lindsey continued with a smirk, “I wouldn’t mind giving that brother of yours a shock.” Rose just rolled her eyes again. Her older brother was studying at Notre Dame, but Lindsey had harbored a crush for him since the first time she laid eyes on him at seven years old.

“This house is rad,” Emily said, spinning around to look at everything. “And your parents left everything the way your grandmother had it?”

“Pretty much. Except they put a color TV in the den,” Rose said as if this was nothing, but inside she was still thrilled. This was 1962, after all. She didn’t know anyone else who had made the upgrade from the black and white sets of her childhood. She watched as all three of their mouths dropped open. “C’mon!”

They set off in a giggling mass for the den.

After watching As the World Turns and Password, Emily rolled on to her back. “Is it creepy living in such a big old house?”

Rose shrugged. “Not really. I mean, my grandmother lived here my whole life. Nora, Mary and I spent our childhoods playing hide and seek here.”

“Can we see you room?” Lindsey asked. Rose nodded and led the girls upstairs.

They oohed and awed over her new duvet cover, then Rose went ahead and showed them all of the other rooms on the second and third floor, the four of them peeking their heads in.

“And… that’s it!” Rose threw her arms out to the side. “That’s the house!”

“What about that door?” Lindsey said, pointing behind her.

“Oh, that’s the attic. We just use it for storage. You know, some of my grandmother’s old things.”

“I wanna see!” Lindsey proclaimed, and Emily agreed. Rose looked at Sam, and she shrugged.

“I mean, unless we’re not supposed to be up there.”

Rose pulled the door open. “It’s fine. C’mon!”

The attic proved to be nothing exciting, jut a dusty space with equally as unthrilling boxes stacked against the walls. Cobwebs hung from the ceiling, and Rose couldn’t help but brush at the sleeves of her uniform sweater.

“Look at me!” They turned to see Emily posing in an ornamental hat. “Pretty fancy,” she laughed, sweeping her arms out and pretending to curtsy to the others.

They all laughed. “Lots of these will be my grandmother’s clothes from when she was younger.” They began to poke through them, looking for treasures.

“Oh wow.” Sam held up what looked like an ancient white and purple pennant flag. It bore emerald green script proclaiming ‘Votes for Women!’ Rose smiled.

“Yeah. My grandmother was part of the 1916 Suffrage Parade in Chicago.” She sighed. “She was really a force to be reckoned with. I miss her a lot.”

“Woah. What is this?” Lindsey was holding a long, flat, wooden box. She blew at the thick layer of dust coating it. “Oh… Oy…” She turned to Sam. “What does this say?”

“I think it’s pronounced Ouija,” Sam said. “It’s a talking board. Kristie’s friend Rachel has one.”

Lindsey wrinkled her nose. “What’s a talking board?”

Rose took a few steps closer. “You use it to talk to spirits.”

This earned her a dubious look. “Talking with spirits? Get out.”

“No, she’s right,” Sam told her earnestly. “It’s supposed to help you bridge the veil so you can talk to the dead.”

“Hm… Well then let’s test it out.”

Part of Rose wanted to say no. While she had shrugged it off earlier, she wasn’t entirely sure that they were supposed to be up in the attic. Her mother had taken her grandmother’s passing very hard, and she didn’t like Rose and her sisters messing with her stuff. But on the other hand… it had been hard for Rose too. She felt like she had so many questions she never had the chance to ask.

She nodded. “Let’s take it into the music room.”

Once on the third floor, Rose grabbed a rag from the bathroom and used it to wipe the box off before bringing it into the music room. She carefully slid the wooden top off and pulled out a tan board, placing it on the velvet ottoman. It had the letters of the alphabet arranged in two arching lines, with 0-9 underneath. In the top left hand corner there was a sun and the word ‘yes.’ The opposite corner had a moon and the word ‘no.’ Finally, along the bottom between two stars, aging script spelled out the word ‘goodbye.’

“What do you do with it?” Emily asked.

Sam picked up a small, arrow shaped piece of wood with a hole in it. “If I remember correctly you take this and put it on the board, then we all place our index fingers on it. Then we ask it questions, and the spirits move the spelling piece to make words.”

“If it’s a spirit, can’t it move it on it’s own?” Lindsey asked.

Emily licked her lips. “Are… are we sure this is a good idea? Shouldn’t the dead y’know… stay that way?”

Rose gave her a sharp look. “So if you died tonight, you wouldn’t want us to contact you?”

Emily frowned. “No, I- I mean, yes-”

“Let’s try it,” Lindsey cut in. The girls crowded around the ottoman on their knees.

“Now it’s important to remember, you can’t take your fingers off the spelling piece until it says goodbye, or else you leave the door open to the ghosts. Okay?” Sam instructed. They all nodded, placing their fingers on the spelling piece.

“Now what?” Lindsey asked.

“We ask a question,” Sam replied.

Rose took a deep breath and closed her eyes. “Are there any spirits with us?” Nothing happened.

Then suddenly, it did.

The spelling piece began to slowly migrate across the board, sending a thrill through Rose’s stomach. Her eyes flew open and she watched, rapt as it stopped.

_Yes._

“Woah,” Sam whispered.

Lindsey scoffed. “Well, obviously we pushed it.”

“I didn’t,” Emily argued.

“I didn’t either.”

Lindsey gave Rose a look. “Well maybe not knowingly.”

She ignored her, looking back down at the board. “Are you someone we know?”

_Yes._

Rose swallowed. “Can you tell us your name?” There was a pause, then more movement.

_O-P-A-L._

Rose gasped. “Grandma?”

_Yes._

Sam piped up in a slightly tremulous voice. “Are you happy?”

_Yes._

“Are you- woah!” The spelling piece began to move before she could finish, skimming quickly across the board.

_R-O-S-I-E._

_C-A-R-E-F-U-L._

“Careful?” Emily asked. “Why would you need to be careful?”

_C-A-R-E-F-U-L._

_C-A-R-E-F-U-L._

_C-A-R-E-F-U-L._

_Goodbye._

It stopped moving as suddenly as it started, and all four pulled their hands back, staring down in an uneasy silence.

“I don’t know about this,” Emily said slowly.

“Oh, c’mon. Its just a fun game. Everything is fine, Em.”

“But still-“

“Careful…” Rose repeated quietly, trying to think of what her grandmother could possibly be warning her about.

“Do… we wanna go again?” Sam asked.

“Yeah! I wanna see if any of my relatives will come through!” Lindsey placed her fingers on the spelling piece and looked at the others expectantly. “Well?” After several reluctant glances at each other, they rejoined the game.

“Now. Are there any other spirits there?”

They waited several long moments before it slowly began to slide.

_Yes._

Lindsey grinned at the others. “Are you someone we know?”

_No._

Sam cleared her throat. “What is your name?”

_Z-O-Z-O._

“Zozo? What kind of a name is Zozo,” Emily giggled.

Rose didn’t find it as funny. “It sounds… weird.”

“Maybe it’s an alien.”

“An alien ghost?” Sam asked, wrinkling her nose.

_N-O-T_

_G-H-O-S-T._

“Then what are you?” Rose asked.

_S-P-I-R-I-T._

“Why are you in Rose’s house?” Lindsey demanded.

_I_

_A-M_

_E-V-E-R-YW-H-E-R-E._

“Then you must see lots of things,” Sam mused. “What can you tell us?”

S-E-C-R-E-T-S.

“Ooh…” Sam seemed to think for a moment.

“Is Alex Morgan really a C cup? Or does she stuff” Rose asked. The others turned to her and she shrugged. “What? She’s disproportionate.”

_No._

_K-L-E-E-N-E-X._

“I knew it!” Lindsey laughed.

“What other secrets should we ask about?” Rose pondered, but the board began to speak.

_S-A-M-A-N-T-H-A._

Sam frowned. “Me?”

_S-T-O-L-E_

_C-I-G-A-R-E-T-T-E_

_F-R-O-M_

_M-O-T-H-E-R-S_

_P-U-R-S-E._

Sam began to splutter. “Just- just the once! Kristie and I wanted to- it was just one time!”

Emily looked genuinely frightened. “How could it have known that?”

Lindsey rolled her eyes. “It must have just been Sam’s guilty conscience. But either way, that’s not that bad, Sam.”

_R-O-S-E._

She felt her stomach drop. “I don’t-” She was going to say she didn’t have secrets, but the spelling piece was already moving.

_N-O-R-A_

_I-S_

_M-O-R-E_

_B-E-A-U-T-I-F-U-L._

_M-A-R-Y_

_I-S_

_M-O-R-E_

_P-O-P-U-L-A-R._

_S-H-E_

_C-A-R-R-I-E-S_

_H-A-T-R-E-D_

_F-O-R_

_T-H-E-M._

Her face flushed. “I don’t hate my sisters,” she insisted. She glanced around at the other three but they didn’t seem to want to make eye contact. “I don’t!”

“I think we should stop,” Emily said, her eyes riveted to the board. “This isn’t-”

_E-M-I-L-Y._

A tear rolled down her cheek. “Please…”

_Q-U-E-E-R._

Sam gasped. That wasn’t exactly a common term or concept in the suburbs of 1962 Chicago.

_K-I-S-S-E-D_

_G-I-R-L_

_A-T_

_S-U-M-M-E-R_

_C-A-M-P._

“It’s not like that!” she insisted with a sob. Rose couldn’t help but wonder if any of them would still be friends after this evening.

_L-I-N-D-S-E-Y._

She squared her shoulders. “Let’s hear it then. I’m not afraid of some silly little game.”

_R-U-S-S-E-L-L._

Her eyes went wide then they narrowed, turning to look at Emily who looked horrified.

“Russell? Like, Mike’s best friend?” Sam asked.

The board wasn’t done.

_R-U-S-S-E-L-L_

_T-O-U-C-H-E-D_

_H-_

But whatever was supposed to come next would remain a mystery, because at that moment Lindsey ripped her hands away from the spelling piece, jumping to her feet and pointing at Emily.

“How could you do this to me?!” she seethed. “You told them?”

“No! I promise, I didn’t!”

“You did! How else could they know?”

Sam stood up from the floor. “Lindsey, what does-”

“It’s nothing!” But her face was red, and her eyes filling with tears. She walked to the couch along the far wall and sat down, hugging her arms across her stomach.

“What was nothing?” Rose asked. She and Sam had crossed to stand in front of her.

“I was- I don’t… He was spending the night with Mike. And I was in my room, going to sleep, I… He just came in!”

“What… happened?” Sam pressed. But at that moment, a horrible noise distracted all three of them, making them whip around to look at Emily and the abandoned game.

It sounded… like she was choking, or gagging maybe. Her mouth was wide open. Her eyes were staring ahead but it didn’t seem as if she was seeing anything. She was on her feet, but her body was slumped in an unnatural manner. She was shaking, jerking, the movements clumsy and nonsensical.

“Emily?” Sam asked.

After several moments, Emily, or something else, responded.

“I… am… Zozo…” The voice was low and guttural, and definitely not their friend.

Lindsey popped to her feet. “Emily this isn’t funny!”

“Zozo…”

She stomped her feet. “Stop it! Right now.”

“Zozo…”

The lights began to flicker on and off. Sam grabbed Rose’s arm, squeezing tightly. “What’s happening?”

“I don’t know!”

“Well fix it!”

Rose dashed for the light switch and turned it off, but the lights continued to flicker. “I can’t!”

“Oh no, oh God.” Rose followed Sam’s shaking arm and saw the Ouija board levitating off of the ottoman, just floating as if someone was holding it.

“Make it stop!” Sam shrieked.

Lindsey took a step forward. “Emily knock it off! Stop it right now!”

Emily’s mouth began to move rapidly, speaking in a language that no one could understand. Her head jerked back so that her face was pointed towards the ceiling. Her arms were still jerking around. Rose dashed over to stand behind Lindsey.

Sam was crying, and she grabbed Rose’s hand. “What is happening? Make it stop!”

Emily stopped speaking the strange language and instead let out a piercing shriek, the noise making the three girl clap their hands over their ears. Lindsey strode forward and without another word, slapped Emily hard across the face.

Just like that, the screaming stopped. The lights stopped flickering. The Ouija board fell back onto the ottoman. Emily crumbled, like a marionette with her strings cut, and Lindsey barely managed to catch her before she fell to the floor.

Sam rushed forward, and the two managed to get Emily on to the couch. Her eyes were tightly shut and her breathing was fast.

“I don’t understand what’s happening,” Sam said tearfully. “Is she sick?”

Lindsey took Emily by the shoulders. “Emily wake up. Please, wake up Em.”

“She has to wake up before my parents get home,” Rose insisted. “Or my mom is going to have a fit and call an ambulance!”

Thankfully, it was at that moment that Emily finally began to stir. Her eyes fluttered open.

“Wha-” She brought her hand up to her cheekbone. “Ow.”

“Are you okay?” Sam asked.

“I… my head hurts. And my face? What… happened?”

“What do you mean what happened?” Rose crossed her arms. “We were playing with the board and then you went… freaky.”

“Freaky?” Emily struggled to sit up. “What does that mean?”

“I don’t-” Rose cut off, sharing a look with Sam and Lindsey. “I don’t want to talk about it.”

“Why does my face hurt?”

Lindsey had the decency to look a little guilty. “I um… I slapped you. But you were screaming! You wouldn’t stop!”

Emily tried to stand up, but immediately fell back onto the couch. Blood began to pour out of both nostrils, running down her shin, onto her sunflower print jumper. Sam grabbed her a tissue and Rose came to her feet.

“We have to get rid of it.”

“Get rid of what?”

“The board.” Rose picked up the board and the spelling piece and stuffed them back into the box. She slid the cover back on, looking down at the faded print on the cover. She raised her head and found herself staring straight into the eyes of a picture of her grandmother.

_Rosie. Careful._

She put the box under her arm and ran from the room. She dashed up the attic stairs and went to the furthest corner, placing the box behind a crate of books. She grabbed an old coat that was laying nearby and laid it on top. She turned to leave and gave a shriek.

“Rosemary, you know better than to be up here!” her mother frowned.

She brushed her hair back her face. “I… I know.”

She glanced behind her. “What were you looking at?”

“I just…” She thought quickly. “We were in the music room. And I wanted to see if any of the old Victrola records had been put up here.”

Her mother hummed. “There might be some over here…” She began shifting some things near the door and Rose glanced over her shoulder at where she knew the box was concealed. “Ah! There they are.”

She took the records and her mother laid a hand against her cheek. “Are you feeling okay, darling?”

She nodded, forcing a smile into place. “Yes.”

Her mother cast her eyes about the attic. “I don’t want you up here, okay? Heaven only knows what’s in these boxes. And it’s better to be careful, hm?”

_Rosie. Careful._

She swallowed thickly. “Of course.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tumblr: @thetheatrelady


	9. The Angel of Astor Lane

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Once Emily saw Lindsey's costume, she knew they wouldn't be making it to the party...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Angel of Astor Lane  
> Pairing: Soran  
> Genre: Smut  
> Rating: E  
> TW: Sexual content :)

Emily let herself into Lindsey’s apartment. “Lindsey? Babe?” Hearing no answer she came in further, seeing no trace of her girlfriend in the apartment apart from a closed bedroom door. She knocked on the door. “Are you almost ready?” She tried the doorknob but was confused to find it locked.

“Almost! Just a few more minutes!” came her muffled voice.

“Do I get to know what you’re dressed up as yet?”

“Nope!”

Emily rolled her eyes. “Fine. I won’t tell you what I’m wearing either.”

She could barely hear her laugh. “You’re Michelangelo, I already saw your insta story.”

“Aw man. C’mon, just a hint?” Emily pouted.

“No! Just sit on the couch, I’ll be out in a minute.”

Emily flopped down in front of the TV with a groan. She didn’t understand why Lindsey was being so secretive about her costume. It was just a party over at the Australians’ apartment. It would be a lot of fun but it wasn’t anything to get stressed about or anything. But Lindsey had insisted that they get ready separately, not dropping any hints about what she would be wearing. Emily’s costume had arrived a few days ago and she knew she had made a killer choice. The teenage mutant ninja turtle onesie was hella comfortable, if a little hot, and had come with all four masks so she could choose which one to be. She pulled the hood up over her head, then grabbed her switch from her bag, figuring she might as well play some Animal Crossing while she waited.

“Em?”

“Mm hm?” she called back, not looking away from the screen. She heard the bedroom door unlock and open.

“I’m ready.” She paused and saved the game, popping to her feet. “Great! Cowa…” But her voice died in her throat.

Lindsey was wearing a silky white dress that hugged her curves in all of the right places. It also plunged low enough in the front to draw Emily’s eye to where Lindsey’s bra was doing the Lord’s work. Her smooth, tan skin seemed to stretch for miles, especially her legs which were on full display beneath the sinfully short skirt. Her hair was down and curly, and the costume was pulled together with a halo headband and a pair of feathery wings.

“Cowabunga,” Emily finished in a strained, awed voice.

Lindsey smoothed her dress and then held out her hands, giving Emily a nervous look. “So? What do you think?”

What did she think? She thought that she must have died and gone to heaven, because how could any angel compare to the one in front of her? She swallowed thickly, very aware of the heat beginning to pool low in her stomach, of the way her costume was suddenly way too warm.

“Emily?” She shifted her weight from foot to foot uneasily. “I mean, you can tell me if it looks stupid. That’s why I didn’t want to tell you, I assumed I would chicken out and decide to wear… It looks dumb. I’ll go take it off.”

Emily came to her feet, quickly lowering her hood and taking off her eye mask. “The only person taking that off is me.”

She walked forward slowly, backing Lindsey up until she was against her living room wall. She brought a hand up and let it trace down the silky smooth skin of her arm. “You look incredible.”

“Are you sure?” Lindsey glanced down, apparently not seeing what Emily was seeing. “It’s not too tight? Or short?”

Emily ghosted her lips against Lindsey’s jaw. “Linds, you look out of this world. You look…” She let out a low groan. “Baby, you look good enough to eat.”

Emily dropped to her knees. She didn’t miss Lindsey’s sharp inhale. She ran her hands up Lindsey’s thighs, reaching around to grab her ass, squeezing as she stared up at her girlfriend. “God, Linds…”

“Take it off.”

Emily chuckled, mouthing at Lindsey’s hip through the fabric of the dress. “Maybe later. You look too good to strip just yet.”

“No. Take yours off.”

Emily pulled back. “What?!”

Lindsey’s head was leaned against the wall, her eyes lidded. “Take off your onesie.”

“Why? I look awesome!”

Lindsey rolled her eyes. “Because Mike was a huge Michelangelo fan, okay?’

Emily softly pinched her thigh. “Are you seriously thinking about your brother right now?”

“You’re dressed as a teenage mutant ninja turtle,” Lindsey whined. “it’s not my fault!”

Emily smirked, unzipping the front and pulling it down around her waist. She scratched her blunt nails up Lindsey’s thighs, skating beneath the silky material until she found what felt like lace. “Then I must not be doing my job right.”

She flipped the skirt up, nuzzling her nose against the fabric of Lindsey’s underwear, pressing against where she knew her clit was. “Fuck baby. I can smell how wet you are for me.”

Lindsey’s hand cupped her cheek. “Touch me. Please.”

Emily turned, pressing a kiss to her wrist. “For you? Anything.”

She hooked her fingers into the sides of the thong, pulling them down Lindsey’s legs then throwing them to the side. She bit her lip, looking up at her girlfriend. “You’re gorgeous.” Then she leaned forward, unable to resist tasting her for one minute more.

She swiped her tongue up and down her slit, groaning at the taste of her. She circled Lindsey’s clit, earning a soft moan that urged her on, making her suck it into her mouth. This got her a hand in her hair, holding her in place as Lindsey gasped. “Em, fuck!”

“Oh I’m going to, baby.” She dove in, switching back and forth between direct circles on her clit and shallowly fucking her tongue in and out of her pussy. Lindsey was writhing against the wall, her free hand pressing against her mouth as she tried to silence the heavenly sounds she was making. Apparently several years before, a boyfriend had made comments about the noises she made in bed, and it had left Lindsey feeling self-conscious to the point where she would try to silence herself. But Emily wasn’t having any of that.

She let one hand pinch at Lindsey’s clit as the other reached up and pulled her hand free. “Let me hear baby. Let’s hear how good you feel.”

“Fuck… Em, shit!”

She pulled one of Lindsey’s legs over her shoulder, nipping the sensitive skin of her inner thigh. “Come for me, Linds. Come apart for me.” She sucked her clit back into the mouth, fluttering her tongue over it, and Lindsey arched against the wall, a loud, dirty moan echoing through her apartment.

She licked her pussy with the flat of her tongue, helping her come down, then helped guide her shaking leg back to the ground.

Her knees were killing her, and knowing her luck she would have bruises, but as she looked up at her practically limp girlfriend, she knew that it was absolutely worth it.

She climbed to her feet and kissed Lindsey softly.

“God I love you,” Lindsey mumbled against her lips.

“Are you talking to me or Michelangelo?”

Lindsey groaned, rolling her eyes. “You’re the worst.”

Emily grinned. “That’s not the tune you were singing just a few minutes ago.”

One of Lindsey’s arms wound its way around her back and her other hand skated up Emily’s stomach, making it’s way under her sports bra. Her thumb swiped over the smooth silver barbell in Emily’s nipple, then pinched it, making Emily whimper against her.

“I want to make you come.”

Emily shook her head slightly. “I’m not done with you yet.”

Lindsey’s thigh wedged itself between Emily’s, pressing upward, and Emily couldn’t help but gasp as she rocked down against it. “Fuck.”

“C’mon Em. Let me make you feel good.”

With a herculean effort, Emily forced herself to back away slightly. “Not yet. I know what I want. And I know what you need.” She pressed one more kiss to Lindsey’s lips. “I’ll be right back, angel.”

She grabbed the strap from the bedside table drawer and shucked off her onesie, sports bra, and underwear, tightening it into place. She walked back into the living room to find Lindsey waiting, her wings and halo now abandoned on the coffee table.

“You left the dress on?”

Lindsey smirked as Emily walked nearer, her eyes flickering down to the piece of plastic between her legs. “If I remember correctly you said the only one taking it off would be you.”

Emily slid a hand into her hair, kissing her lazily as she pulled the zipper down. Lindsey slipped out of the sleeves and it fell to the floor, immediately kicked away and forgotten.

Emily kissed her way down Lindsey’s throat to press fervent kisses into the swells of Lindsey’s breasts. She flicked the bra clasp open and it joined the rest of Lindsey’s clothes on the ground. She bit her lip. “Fuck, your tits are…”

Lindsey pressed her forehead against Emily’s. “Yours.”

With a little maneuvering, Emily had Lindsey sitting on the edge of the couch. She stood in front of her and leaned her back until the plastic dick could rest between her breasts. Emily slowly began to move back forth and Lindsey got the idea, squeezing them together with a groaning laugh. “Titty fucking? You really are a frat boy sometimes.”

Emily grinned. “It’s just what you do to me.”

Lindsey wrapped her hands around Emily’s hips and guided her further back. She kept eye contact with her girlfriend as she lowered her head, wrapping her lips around Emily’s fake cock. Emily couldn’t help but moan, hopelessly turned on by the sight of Lindsey giving her a blow job.

“Lindsey, Jesus Christ,” she gasped out.

She pulled back, licking at her lips with a devilish grin. “How do you want me?”

Nothing could have stopped Emily from surging forward, pulling her into a bruising kiss. She kissed her until her lungs were burning, demanding that she take a breath, then pulled back. “Turn around baby. On your knees.” Lindsey immediately flipped around, her knees on the couch cushion, her hands gripping the back of the couch.

Emily swept her hair to the side, nibbling on the skin on the back of her shoulder. “You’re so fucking gorgeous.” She moved to kneel between Lindsey’s legs, forcing them wider, then reached down to guide the strap on inside of her.

Lindsey let out a breath moan. “Em. Oh, Em, oh my god.”

“You feel good,” Emily managed to breath, stunned by the sight in front of her.

“Shit baby. Please. Please, fuck me.” Emily slowly began to move, rolling her hips, sliding in and out. “Yes. Yes.”

Emily couldn’t help but pinch her own nipple, tugging on it harshly. “Lindsey, god.”

Lindsey adjusted her grip on he couch. “Please. More, harder.”

“Okay baby. I’ve got you. I’ve got you.”

She began to fuck into her harder, the skin of their thighs slapping together. Lindsey rocked backwards, meeting her thrust for thrust, her strong thighs nearly threatening to knock Emily backwards, to the point where she had no choice but to hold tightly onto Lindsey’s shoulders. Each thrust sent the strap on into her clit and she felt like she would pass out from the pure pleasure.

“Fuck, I’m gonna come,” Lindsey gasped.

“I might too,” Emily panted. “God you look so incredible like this. I love you, Lindsey. I love-”

But she was cut off by the near scream leaving Lindsey’s lips. She held her close as she rode out her orgasm, her body shaking until she was exhausted. Emily slowly pulled out and Emily clumsily got off her knees, still trying to catch her breath.

“God, Em…”

Are you complaining?’ she teased.

“Not at all.”

Lindsey took her hand and pulled her so that she was also sitting on the couch. A hand on her shoulder guided her backwards until she was laying down. “Linds, you don’t have to-” But she had already unhooked the strap and pulled the harness down Emily’s legs, spreading them.

“Fuck, you’re soaked.”

Emily gave a stuttered laugh. “It’s from watching you.” Lindsey leaned down, licking at her with the flat of her tongue, and Emily’s head fell back against the couch with a soft thud.

“You taste so good,” Lindsey cooed. She pressed a finger inside of Emily, curling up against her g spot a few times before adding a second. “So hot. So wet.”

“Lindsey,” Emily whined, her body already shaking, twitching with how badly she needed it.

“Pinch your nipples for me, baby. Pull on them.” Emily did as she was told, the mix of pleasure and pain making her gasp.

“Come for me baby. Come around my fingers.”

And Emily did with a loud cry. Lindsey stroked her through it, bringing her down. Finally she pulled back, and the collapsed together on the couch. They moved so that they were spooning and Lindsey pulled a blanket over them. Emily grabbed the remote and turned on an old rerun of Friends. They snuggled close together as they watched the characters have their own costume party.

Lindsey was the first to speak. “So do you think the Australians are going to be mad that we didn’t make it to their party?”

Emily laughed. “Who the fuck cares? This had been the best Halloween ever.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tumblr: @thethearelady


	10. The Aftermath

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The only bad thing about parties is having to clean up afterwards

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Aftermath  
> Pairing: Krashlyn  
> Genre: Fluff  
> Rating: T  
> TW: some sexual content, nothing explicit

“We have made a grave mistake,” Ali said, putting her hands on her hips.

The house she and Ashlyn shared was absolutely trashed. This was the first Halloween since they moved in together, so they had decided to throw a party for Ashlyn’s favorite holiday, inviting all of their friends over last night to drink and dance and celebrate.

And celebrate they did.

Ashlyn retrieved an empty bottle of tequila from Logan’s dog bed and held it up for Ali to see. “Ya think?”

She shook her head. “I don’t even know who to blame that on.”

“Oh I do. That would be one Christen Annemarie Press.”

Ali laughed, picking up several empty plastic cups from the coffee table. “Oh surely not.”

Ashlyn nodded. “Believe it. Sometime after midnight I looked over to see her snuggling Logan, telling her she was a good girl, while drinking straight out of the bottle.” Their ordinarily poised and refined friend loved tequila and dogs more than almost anything, and when the two things combined she was in heaven.

“I hope she and Tobin got home okay.”

Ashlyn nodded with a yawn. “Yeah, Tobs called them an Uber.”

“Good. God our friends are assholes!”

“Messy assholes,” Ashlyn agreed with a groan. She didn’t understand how so much mess could happen in such a short amount of time.

“We’re never having another party again.”

Ashlyn sank into the corner of the couch, holding her head. She started laughing to herself.

“What?”

“Did you see Kelley trying to dance up on Emily?”

Ali’s eyebrows shot upwards. “No?”

“I think you and Syd were in the bathroom talking shit. Cardi B was on so everyone was dancing and Kelley slid behind Emily and they were going after it.”

“And what about-”

“Lindsey?” Ashlyn rolled her eyes. “She got all kinds of mad and huffy. She was talking to Mal but if looks could kill…”

“How do you think that weird little knot is going to work itself out?”

Ashlyn shrugged. “You mean what is Emily going to do when she realizes that both of her best friends are in love with her?”

“In love?”

“Okay, want to bang her lights out?”

“Better.”

Ashlyn began digging crumpled candy wrappers out of the couch cushions. “She probably won’t. God love her, but she has that oblivious lesbian thing going strong. They could probably both take turns going down on her and she still wouldn’t be completely sure if they were interested.”

Ali rolled her eyes. “Thank you so much for that visual.”

“You’re welcome. So speaking of, what were you and Syd gossiping about in the bathroom?”

“The usual. Work, you, Dom… Oh!”

“What?” Ashlyn was now on her feet, pulling the fake cobwebs off of their ceiling fan.

“Don’t tell anyone, but… they’re might be a tiny Dwyer baby in the mix soon.”

Ashlyn whirled around. “What?!”

“I know!” Ali squealed. “Syd said she thinks they’re about to start trying.”

“Aw, yay… Good for them.” Ashlyn sat down in the armchair and pulled Ali to sit on her lap. “I’m done cleaning. Let’s just burn the house down.”

Ali laughed. “Sounds like a plan.” She yawned. “I need to get dressed and go for a run.”

“Noooo, stay here with me.”

“Gotta keep it tight, baby.”

Ashlyn smirked into her shoulder. “You’re always tight,” she said, waggling her eyebrows.

Ali reached back, caressing her face. “Charmer.” She struggled to get up, Ashlyn’s arms holding her in place. “C’mon. Gotta get my heart rate going.”

Ashlyn pulled her back down into the chair. “I know a few ways to get your heartrate going…”

“Naughty.” Ali squirmed around until she could see her girlfriend. “Tell you what. I’m going to go change into my running clothes. If you finish cleaning up the house while I’m gone then when I get home,” she began pressing kisses onto her jaw, “We can take a nice, hot, steamy, sexy shower together.”

“Mmm… I feel like I’m getting the bum end of this deal. But when you put it like that…”

“I promise I will make it worth your while.”

“Okay, if you promise.” Ashlyn let her up and restarted the cleaning process. “Man where did we get these fake spiders? They’re super intense. Ooh! We should take one and sneak it into Tobin’s bag. Can you imagine her reaction?”

Ali came back into the living room, sports bra on and tennis shoes in hand. “Fake spider? What fake spider?”

“This one! It looks so-” But then the spider began to move, making a run for it, and Ashlyn let out an ungodly shriek.

“What? What is it?!” Ali asked frantically.

“Real! It’s real! Fuck! Shit, give me a shoe!” Both women whirled around in place for a moment, both barefoot. Finally Ali threw Ashlyn a book and she hurriedly brought it down on spider, smacking it several times until it was dead.

“Holy shit,” Ali gasped.

“Yuck.” Ashlyn showed her the now very gory book cover. “One more thing to clean.”

Suddenly the door to their bedroom flew open, making them both scream. Standing in the doorway was none other than Pinoe. She was still wearing the aviator sunglasses that she insisted truly made her Maverick from Top Gun costume. Her jacket, however, had been abandoned at some point, as had her shirt. Instead she was just in a sports bra and cargo pants, wearing only one sock.

“How? What were- Where- What?” Ali gasped out, her hand on her chest.

“Can you keep it down out here? Jesus some of us were trying to sleep,” Pinoe drawled.

“Where the fuck were you?” Ashlyn demanded.

Pinoe shrugged. “The floor of your closet.”

“Why?”

“I was drunk and didn’t have a driver, and since I’m a responsible bitch, I decided to stay the night.”

“Without asking?” Ashlyn wanted to know as Ali asked, “Why didn’t you sleep in the guest room?”

“Couldn’t find it. And your closet was right there. Which reminds me:” She lowered her sunglasses to waggle her eyebrows at Ali, “If you could teach me how to do that thing with your tongue, I think Sue would be highly appreciative. Hey!” She yelped, dodging the tennis shoe that had been thrown at her. “Not nice!”

“You listened to us have sex?” Ali hissed as Ashlyn tried to hold her own laughter in.

“Well, you two are quite _loud,_ I didn’t exactly have a choice.” Pinoe flopped down on the couch, then leaned to the side, pulling a piece of candy out from under her. “Sweet! I love Reese’s.” She pointed a finger at Ali. “Y’know just for that, you can now cook me breakfast. I take my eggs scrambled, thank you!”

“I think your entire brain is scrambled,” Ali grumbled, but made her way into the kitchen all the same.

Ashlyn put the book she had used to smash the spider on the coffee table and sat next to her best friend. “You really listened the whole time?”

“Again: didn’t have a choice! Your neighbors must really hate you.”

Ashlyn snorted. “Yeah… the frat boys next door thought they had really scored by moving in next to a couple of lesbians. I think they had fantasies of coming over for threesomes and orgies and stuff. Instead, we constantly complain to the landlord about them not recycling correctly, and they get to listen to us through the wall.” Ashlyn gave a smug grin. “And if I notice they have lady friends over and I happen to make Ali come five times in a row… Well sue me.”

“Nice.” Pinoe gave her a fist bump.

“Speaking of, where is Sue?”

“She had work early this morning, she ducked out early this morning. That’s why I decided to stay, I didn’t want to wake her up when I stumbled in.”

“Fair enough.” Ashlyn pulled a Scream mask out from under the couch. “Tobin?”

“Alyssa, I think.”

“Hm.” She threw it in the trash can still in the middle of the room. “Okay, lets get this place cleaned up.”

“I need a shirt first.”

“What happened to yours?”

Pinoe shrugged and Ashlyn snorted.

“Top drawer.”

“Thanks.” Pinoe walked into their bedroom and Ashlyn had a sudden thought.

“Of the dresser! Not the nightstand!”

Pinoe leaned around the doorframe and pushed her glasses on top of her head. “I’m a lesbian too, y’know. I know better than to go poking around in your nightstand drawer.”

“Know better, yes, but that doesn’t mean you wouldn’t.”

Pinoe grinned. “Touché.”

Ashlyn leaned back against the couch with a sigh. Their Halloween party was done and the house was a wreck, but all in all, it was so worth it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tumblr: @thetheatrelady


	11. The Witching Hour

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Witching Hour  
> Pairing: Preath, Past Talex  
> Genre: Horror  
> Rating: M  
> TW: witchcraft, implied character death
> 
> *THIS STORY CONTAINS MENTIONS OF THE IMPLIED DEATH OF A CHARACTER. DO NOT READ ANY FURTHER IF YOU WILL FIND THIS DISTRESSING/TRIGGERING*

Once when Alex was a little girl, she heard one of her parents say that everything was fair in love and war. She had rolled her eyes, not understanding. How could two things that were so different be similar? But now Alex knew. Now she understood that love and war were practically the same thing.

She and Tobin were on a break, true, but she had no doubts that they would find their way back to each other. After all, she loved Tobin. Tobin had said that she loved her. She had no doubt that once they both had some space to calm down everything would be fine.

How wrong she had been.

She isn’t even sure why she had decided to go to the homecoming dance. Despite her mother’s wishes, it was so not her thing. She would much rather spend her Friday night out with her friends, riding around with the windows down and Nirvana blasting then jumping around at a football game. But for some reason, she’d decided to go. She and Kelley had played it off as something fun to do, a chance to laugh at all of their poser classmates. They would go for an hour or so then go find something else to do.

Instead, Alex didn’t find herself laughing at all.

Thirty minutes in, En Vogue’s Free Your Mind faded into How Do I Live by LeAnn Rimes. The dance floor cleared slightly as everyone paired up to dance to the slow song.

“Wanna dance?” Kelley asked, and Alex rolled her eyes.

“Yeah right,” she snarked, missing the way Kelley’s face fell as she leaned back against the wall. Instead, Alex was staring into the heart of the dance floor where her girlfriend had her hands on someone else’s waist.

“What the fuck?” she asked, earning a very dirty look from a passing chaperone.

“What?”

“Who is that?”

“Who?” Kelley stretched up on her toes, still short even with her doc martens on.

“Her! That girl that Tobin is all over!” she seethed.

“Oh that’s Christen. She’s in my honors English class. She’s really nice.”

“What does Tobin want with some fucking nerd?”

Kelley scowled. “Being in honors classes doesn’t make you a nerd, Alex.”

Alex ignored her best friend, instead stewing over the sight in front of her. She thought they had just been taking time apart, she never thought they were seeing other people. Did she mean nothing to Tobin?

She watched as Tobin brushed back a lock of hair that had fallen out of Christen’s butterfly clip, and her blood boiled. This wasn’t the end. It couldn’t be.

The next day after school she leaned against Tobin’s locker, picking at the remains of her black nail polish, waiting for the other girl to stop by before heading to soccer practice.

“Lex?” She looked up to find Tobin staring at her, both hands fidgeting with the strap of her backpack.

She gave her a small smile. “Hi baby.”

Tobin sighed. “What do you want?”

“What, no kiss?”

Tobin cast a furtive glance around even though the hallway was majorly deserted. “We’re at school,” she mumbled.

Alex arched an eyebrow as she slid to the side, letting Tobin open her locker. “Really? Because that didn’t stop you from putting your hands all over that new girl at the dance.”

“Alex-”

“I’m just saying, it feels like a double standard.”

“Can I help you with something?” Tobin pulled her chemistry book out and shoved it into her gym bag.

“I miss you. I’m ready for our break to be over.”

“Al- no! I meant what I said this time! I don’t think we’re good for each other.”

“Tobin!”

“You make it impossible to concentrate! Since we started dating my grades suck ass-”

“Oh so now I’m to blame because you’re dyslexic?”

Tobin groaned, looking up at the ceiling as if it would offer her help. “That’s not what I said,” she replied.

“Well why are you acting like I’m some horrible person? Is this… is this because of her?”

“Who?” Tobin asked a beat too late.

“That fucking dweeb! Christina or whatever.”

“It’s Christen-”

“Christen,” Alex spat back.

“Don’t drag her into this,” Tobin warned. “I’m serious, Alex. This doesn’t have anything to do with her-”

“That’s a fucking lie!”

Tobin leaned forward until they were nearly nose to nose, but her eyes didn’t once flicker down to Alex’s lips as they had so many times before. “Leave her alone, Alex. You and I are over, and you need to accept that.” She stepped back and slammed her locker, storming away without another word.

Alex stared after her. Tobin had never spoken to her that way, and she was beginning to worry more and more that she meant it, that they really were over. But then what did that mean for Alex?

“Can you like, move?” She turned her head to see no one other then perfect little miss Julie Beth Johnston with her hand on her hip.

“Can you like, say please?” She mocked back.

She flicked her blonde hair over her shoulder. “Can you please get away from my locker before you infect it with syphilis?”

“Yeah, you’d know all about syphilis, wouldn’t you Julie? That was you in the back of Zach’s car this weekend, wasn’t it?”

The cheerleader narrowed her eyes. “Move, I need my stuff.”

Alex did not. “I wonder what Mommy and Daddy would say if they knew their perfect little girl has no problem getting on her knees for her perfect Ken doll boyfriend.”

“I’m not the one with an armful of jelly bands.” She hooked a perfectly manicured finger into one.

Alex smirked. “Careful, Julie. That one stands for anal.”

The other girl flinched backwards in disgust. “Don’t you have something more worthwhile to be doing? Like maybe an animal sacrifice or brewing some creepy love potion with your witchy friends?”

Alex went completely still, a lightbulb going off in her head. Surely there was something worthwhile she could do about this whole Christen and Tobin situation.

Julie stamped her foot. “Hello?!”

She smiled. “Thanks, Julie. You’re a doll.” She pushed off from Julie’s locker, ignoring Julie’s scoff as she started for the back parking lot.

X

Allie leaned back in her chair. “Why are we here?”

Alex didn’t look up from the book in front of her. “I told you, I need to find something,” she mumbled.

Allie blew a huge bubble with her gum. “Okay but like, since when do you give a shit about doing homework? C’mon, my parents won’t be home till like six.”

“I’m not doing homework!” she snapped, annoyed. Allie raised her hands in surrender, then kicked her feet up onto the table. She fished a compact out of her bag and began to inspect the dark makeup ringing her eyes.

“I think I want to get my eyebrow pierced.”

“That’ll look great. Not!”

Allie rolled her eyes. “What is your problem?”

“Nothing, I just need you to shut up so I can concentrate.”

Allie sighed and grumbled something under her breath, but Alex pointedly ignored her.

She flipped through a few more pages, wrinkling her nose at the mildewy smell of the old book. Honestly she was surprised that she even found this, shoved onto a bottom shelf in the back room of their town’s public library. She would have thought that the Julie Johnstons of their community would have burned it on the spot. But it had been there, almost as if it had been waiting for her. She turned another page and froze, her eyes quickly scanning the words before diving beneath the table to grab her composition notebook from her backpack. She quickly copied all of the information down, making sure it was word for word.

“Excuse me but there is absolutely NO gum chewing in this library,” a shrill voice yelled from just a few feet away.

Alex got to her feet and grabbed Allie by her flannel, dragging her to her feet. “We were just leaving anyway. C’mon Als.”

“You can’t take books without checking them out!”

She gave her a bored stare. “Wasn’t... going to.” She and Allie side stepped the bitchy woman and made their way out of the building.

“So what are we doing now? Are you done with your weird research thing?”

Alex smiled. “Oh I’m just getting started, Allie. And I’m going to need your help.”

X

Rose peered around the clearing. “I don’t like this,” she whined.

“It’s going to be fine!” Sonnett said, throwing an arm around her neck. “I’m sure we’re just gonna like, split a couple of beers or something.”

“But I’ve never drank before.”

She gave her a goofy grin. “It’s gonna be fine, Rosie.”

Alex rolled her eyes as she went about clearing the ground of any rocks or branches. She wasn’t really close to Sonnett, she was more Kelley’s friend, and she had never spoken to Rose Lavelle before tonight, but the book had been quite clear that five people would be needed. She needed both of them here so she bit her tongue to avoid saying anything too bitchy.

“What are we doing, Alex?” Kelley asked. “Why are we way the fuck out here?”

“We need complete and total privacy.”

She waggled her eyebrows. “We gonna play strip poker or something?”

Alex ignored her. “Where is Allie?”

“She probably got lost, it’s not as if you gave her a map.” Just then two headlights appeared, drawing nearer until Allie’s car pulled to a stop. She clambered out.

“Sorry, sorry. My mom saw that I was gathering up candles and got all weird, I ended up telling her that we were having a spa night,” she giggled. “But then she made me load the dishwasher before I could come.”

“But you brought the candles?” Alex pressed.

“Yeah.” She pulled out a plastic sack and threw it to Alex. “They smell like cinnamon apple.”

Alex placed them at her feet. “And Sonnett, you brought the pickle jar?”

“Yup!” She grabbed it from Kelley’s jeep and handed it over. “It was nearly full, but Emma and I ate them.” She rubbed at her stomach. “I thought I was going to barf.”

“Okay and last but not least, Kelley. Did you get the photo I asked for?”

Her best friend gave her a strange look as she pulled it out of the pocket of her jeans. “Yeah, I did. Although I don’t know why you needed-”

“We can start then. Everyone stand in a circle.” They did so and Alex turned, looking at each of them in the sharp light of Kelley’s headlights. “Thank you for coming out here. I know it’s Friday and we-” Her eyes fell on Rose. “Well, most of us probably had plans, but this is really important.” She took a deep breath. “I found a book about witchcraft and spells at the library, and I’m going to use it to get Tobin back.”

Rose took a step back. “Witchcraft?! No.”

“Don’t be a baby,” Alex snapped.

Emily put a hand on Rose’s shoulder. “It’s fine, Rosie,” she whispered. “It’s just a joke. It’s good fun. Everything is going to be alright.”

“Alex…” Kelley started, but didn’t seem to know how to finish her thought.

“Don’t you think this is getting a little out of hand?” Allie asked.

“That’s easy for you to say! You don’t know what it’s like to watch the person you love be all over someone else.”

“Don’t I?” Kelley muttered under her breath.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

Kelley shrugged, dropping her eyes to the grass below her feet. “Nothing. What exactly do you want us to do?”

“I’m going to do most of the heavy lifting, I just need you guys to be here and repeat after me and stuff.”

“This, I really don’t think this is a good idea,” Rose whimpered. “I went to Catholic school and they said anything like this is dangerous, it can invite the devil-”

“Look are you in or not?” Alex spat. “Because it has to be five girls.”

Sonnett gave her an uneasy grin. “It’s just like, a love potion or something, right Alex?”

She ignored her. “Everyone kneel on the ground.” Slowly they all did, although Rose looked like she might run at any moment. “Allie switch places with Rose. I need her next to me.” They did and Alex leaned close to Rose’s ear. “If you fuck this up for me, the devil is going to be the least of your worries.”

She pulled out a can of spray paint she had stolen from the hardware store. She yanked the cap off then gave it a shake before drawing a pentagram on the ground so that a girl was sitting at each point.

“Alex, do you know what you’re doing?” She could hear the concern in Kelley’s voice but once again ignored it, placing candles in the empty spaces and lighting them.

“Kelley turn off your headlights. We’ll have to make do without.”

She reluctantly did as she was told then rejoined the circle. Everyone’s faces looked almost unfamiliar in the flickering light from the candles.

“Alex, what is this? Is it a love potion? Because you know that vodka works too, right?” Allie asked, obviously trying to lighten the mood.

“We’re not making a love potion.” She took a deep breath. “We’re going to cast a spell to kill Christen Press.”

All four girls went deathly still.

“Alex…” Allie breathed.

“I said what I said.”

“We can’t… we can’t _kill_ someone,” replied Kelley.

“The book says we can.”

“No, I mean, we shouldn’t- this is crazy!”

Alex turned to look at her straight on. “You’re my best friend, Kel. If you really care about me you will do this.”

Kelley pressed her lips together and didn’t respond past a jerky nod, her face pale and serious, and Alex turned her attention to the items she had collected. She unscrewed the pickle jar and poured in some small rocks as well as some rusty nails she had found in her dad’s woodshed. She then pulled out the picture Kelley had procured from the yearbook committee, frowning at the girl’s shy smile and green eyes. She turned it over and wrote ‘Christen Press’ on the back with a red sharpie, then put an x over the girls face, adding the defaced photo to the jar.

“Okay, I just need one more ingredient.”

“And what’s that?” Allie sighed, her arms crossed tightly.

“The blood of a virgin.”

“Well, sorry not sorry,” Allie cracked. “Can’t help you there.”

“Ditto,” Kelley murmured.

Alex turned to look at Rose and the girl began to visibly shake.

“Please, I don’t want to be involved in this any more than I have to.”

Alex looked across the circle at Sonnett. “Well?”

The sophomore flushed. “I um… I don’t quite fit your requirements.”

Alex gave her a slightly appraising look. “Hm. Who would have thought?” She turned back to Rose. “Guess that just leaves you.”

“Please!”

“Alex, if she doesn’t want to-”

She turned on Kelley. “We’ve already started the process! It would be dangerous to stop now.”

“It sounds dangerous to continue,” Allie cut in.

Alex grabbed Rose’s hand and pulled it towards her. “It won’t even hurt.” She picked up the pocketknife she had brought along.

“Alex, stop-“

Rose’s shriek rang out through the woods, echoing off the trees.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” Allie asked.

Alex held Rose’s palm over the jar, making sure that several drops fell in, then relinquished her grip. “Calm down, I brought bandaids.” She handed one to the crying girl then screwed the lid tightly on the jar. She picked up one of the candles, tilting it so that the wax dropped onto the lid. She then placed it in the middle and held out her hands.

“Everyone join hands.” They did, however reluctantly. “Whatever happens, don’t let go until I say so. Okay, now repeat after me: _“Sorores noctis, adiuva me.”_

_“Sorores noctis, adiuva me.”_

_“Hostem occidere mortalis.”_

_“Hostem occidere mortalis.”_

_“Respice in me in tenebris oculi tui.”_

_“Respice in me in tenebris oculi tui.”_

_“Et inferre vindictam in hac planum!”_

_“Et inferre vindictam in hac planum!”_

Suddenly a gust of wind ripped through the clearing, blowing out the candles and plunging them into darkness. It was silent, even the crickets falling quiet.

“Guys?” Rose asked.

The headlights on both Kelley’s and Allie’s car turned on, blinding them all. “Don’t let go!” Alex shouted. The wind began to blow from every direction, whipping their hair into their faces. Suddenly the radio flipped on in the jeep, and a song came through, the singer’s voice scratched and distorted: “ _How do I live without you? I want to know, How do I breathe without you if you ever go? How do I ever, ever survive? How do I, how do I, oh, how do I live? Without you there'd be no sun in my sky, There would be no love in my life, There'd be no world left for me…”_ The song cut out completely, leaving the radio blasting static.

“Oh my god!” Sonnett screamed.

Alex looked away from the jeep to see the jar hovering in midair, spinning wildly.

“What have we done?” Rose sobbed. “What have we done?”

The candle’s relit, one by one, seemingly unaffected by the violent winds. The jar lifted up, five feet, ten feet, fifteen, and then dropped into the exact middle of the pentagram and shattering.

Immediately, the wind stopped and the cars turned off, plunging them back into darkness and silence. The crickets began to chirp again, and the girls released each other’s hands.

“This was a mistake,” Rose spat.

“I agree,” said Allie, looking as if she might throw up.

“Did it work?” Alex whispered.

“Jesus Christ, I hope not Alex!” Kelley bit back.

Alex leaned forward and pulled the photo out from under the shards of glass. The front and back were covered in blood, completely obscuring the picture and the writing.

“We should go back into town,” Sonnett suggested. “We should all go home and just forget this ever happened. We can, can tell everyone that we went to the movies or something. I want to go home.” She tugged on the sleeve of Kelley’s flannel. “Please take me home. Rosie too.”

“Did it work?” Alex asked again, speaking to herself.

But then the wail of sirens cut through the air. Alex turned to Kelley, and could read the fear in her friend’s hazel eyes, clear as day.

“Fuck,” Kelley whispered. “What have we done?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tumblr: @thetheatrelady


	12. The Trickster

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Staying home alone is a fun rite of passage, but happens when something goes bump in the night?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Trickster  
> Pairing: NA  
> Genre: Fluff/Family  
> Rating: K  
> TW: none

“Okay girls, we won’t be gone for long, but I want all three of you to be good. Channing, Christen, listen to Tyler, okay? She’s in charge for the night. Tyler, let’s not go overboard with your new found power, capiche?”

The eleven year old rolled her eyes from the couch. “Okay Dad.”

Their mother came in from the kitchen. “Pizza is on the counter, use paper plates and throw them away please. You can each have one soda with dinner but no more. And if something comes up and you need an adult, go to the Lang’s next door.”

“Okay,” the three sisters chorused.

“Well come on, get up and tell us good bye!” Hugs and kisses were given out, and Cody Press scooped Channing up into his arms. “And what did we all agree?”

“No calling 911 unless it’s a real emergency!” she replied, her tongue sticking through where her front teeth would eventually regrow.

“That’s right!” He booped her on the nose. The Palo Alto police department had been generally good natured about Channing calling in to report that Christen was refusing to play barbies with her, but the look they’d given Cody and Stacy had made it evident that they wouldn’t be as pleasant about it next time.

“Cody, we’re going to be late,” Stacy gently prodded him.

“Okay, okay.” He placed Channing on the ground and blew all three one last kiss. “Be good!”

“We’ll be back by eleven, but you better all be asleep by then!”

Their parents bustled out of the house, pulling the door closed, and they were finally alone.

“Okay, listen up,” Tyler commanded after locking the door. “I’m in charge, that means you have to do what I say.”

Christen gave her a skeptical look. “No, it means that if something happens, then you get to call the police.”

“That still makes me in charge. And I say we’re going to watch Scary Stories to Tell in the Dark.”

Channing slowly inched towards Christen, grabbing her hand. “Nooo…”

“Isn’t that PG-13?” Christen asked.

Tyler rolled her eyes. “Perry watched it and she said it’s not even that scary. But if you guys are babies and can’t handle it…”

Christen narrowed her eyes. “I’m NOT a baby. I’m not even scared, I just don’t want us to get in trouble.” The truth was she was a little nervous to watch it. Perry could say whatever she wanted but Tobin said that her sisters had screamed their heads off while watching it. But she didn’t want to admit that to her super cool older sister.

“We won’t get in trouble. Mom and Dad won’t even know. Unless you tell them,” she added, sending an accusatory look at Channing, who hid further behind Christen.

“I want to watch Casper,” she whined.

Tyler groaned. “That movie is so boring.”

Christen squeezed Channing’s hand. “Why don’t we eat first, and then pick a movie? We could watch Hocus Pocus or something.”

“We watched Hocus Pocus last weekend.”

Christen began pulling Channing into the kitchen. “Let’s eat.”

Almost an entire mushroom and pepperoni pizza later, all three sisters were back in the living room, back to arguing about what movie to watch.

“Coraline!” Channing shouted, and Tyler gave a shiver.

“No way, that movie is creepier than Scary Stories for sure!”

“What about Mickey’s House of Villains?” Christen suggested. "It’s short, and when it’s done Channing can go to bed. Then you, I mean we can watch Scary Stories.”

Tyler grumbled, taking another swig of her coke. “I guess.” They turned it on and settled in to watch. By the end of the first cartoon, even Tyler was laughing at poor Donald Duck’s bad choices. Before they knew it, the movie was drawing to a close.

The oldest Press sister hit stop on the remote and turned to Channing. “Alright, it’s time for you to go to bed.”

Channing gave her a manic grin. “But I’m not sleepy!”

“You have to be. It’s nine.”

“But I’m not!” The six year old wiggled out from under her cozy blanket and popped to her feet. She climbed over the couch cushions, stepping squarely on Tyler in the process. “I’m not tired, I wanna play! I’m never going to sleep!”

Christen pulled back the fuzzy Olaf blanket to reveal a stash of candy wrappers. “Channing! Where did you get all of this?”

“It was in the pantry!”

Tyler groaned, letting her head fall back into the couch. “You dummy, that was supposed to be for the trick or treaters!”

Immediately Channing’s bottom lip began to quiver. “I’m not a dummy!”

“Well now you’re all hyper and you’re not going to be able to go to sleep!”

“It’ll be fine. She can just… stay up till Mom and Dad get home. Then they can deal with her,” Christen reasoned.

“But I was in charge! I’m going to get in trouble!”

“I’m sorry!” Channing burst into tears, and Christen glared at her older sister.

“Great! Now you made her cry!”

“It’s not my fault!”

Their bickering was cut off by a loud knock on the door.

Tyler gave a long, drawn out groan and got up from the couch. She rubbed at where Channing had stepped on her as she slumped towards the front door. “It’s probably Mrs. Lang coming to check in on us and Channing’s crying and somehow I’m going to get in trouble.” She flipped the lock and pulled open the door.

No one was there.

She opened the screen door and poked her head out, glancing around. She didn’t see anyone in the yard or on the street. She rolled her eyes and pulled the screen door closed, kicking the front door closed as she walked back to the living room.

“Who was it?” Christen asked.

Tyler shrugged. “No one was there. It must have been a ding dong ditcher.” She returned her attention back to where Channing was crying on the couch. “If you’re not in bed when Mom and Dad come home we’re never going to get to stay home by ourselves again!”

Channing wiped her face on her stuffed bear. “I don’t want to stay by ourselves again! I want Mommy!”

Tyler sighed, pulling Channing into her lap. “Everything is fine, Chan. Nothing is going to happen.” And then, as if someone was listening to her, the lights went out.

Channing screamed, and Tyler could tell from the sharp inhale to her right that Christen had barely managed not to do the same. “It’s okay! Everything’s okay!”

“But the lights!” Christen exclaimed.

“It’s fine, they must have… the wind must have blown out the power or something.”

“What wind?” Christen demanded, too smart for her own good. “There’s no wind because there’s no storm!”

“Well then it must be far away!” Channing was holding on so tightly to Tyler’s neck that she could barely breath. She stroked her hair, trying to use the same calming motions that their mother used when one of them were upset. “Christen, go into Channing’s room and grab her toy story flashlight.”

“What? No, it’s dark!” she yelped.

“Christen,” she warned through clenched teeth. “Just go get it please. You’re the fastest, anyway.”

Christen made a whining noise in the back of her throat, but got up anyway. Tyler could hear her footsteps as she quickly ran to Channing’s room, coming back a minute later illuminated by the toy.

“Alright! Good job. Now… now we’ll call Mom and Dad. And they can come home and light candles and stuff.”

Channing whined as Tyler stood up from the couch, but she ignored her. She crossed confidently to the landline and picked it up.

There was no dial tone.

She slowly turned around and Christen sighed. “No electricity means no lights AND no phones. What are we going to do?”

“We’re fine! It’s fine. We’ll… we’ll go upstairs to my room.” She nodded, as if convincing herself. “Yeah. And we’ll have a sleepover in my bed.”

“I want Mommy!”

Tyler hefted Channing up into her arms. “It’s okay, Channing. We’ll go to sleep and before you know it, it’ll be morning. Chris, you bring the flashlight and her Olaf blanket.”

She started for the stairs, and was halfway up when she heard Christen’s panicked voice behind her.

“Ty?”

“Yeah?” she grunted. Sure Channing was only six, but she was still kind of heavy.

“Why didn’t you shut the front door?”

“I did.”

“Then why is it wide open?”

She turned around slowly, her eyes wide. Sure enough, the door she was almost certain that she closed was wide open. Through the glass door she could see the lights of the house across the street, confirming that only their house had been plunged into darkness. Then, a large shadowy figure stepped onto the porch, blocking their view of the street.

“Come on!” Tyler yelled, bolting upstairs as fast as she could while carrying Channing, being soundly passed by Christen zooming by.

Once they were in Tyler’s room she practically threw Channing on the bed beside Christen and slammed her door shut.

“Push the dresser in front of it!” Christen shrieked.

She gave her a bewildered look. “I’m not strong enough to move the dresser!”

Suddenly a heavy thud could be heard. Someone was on the stairs.

Tyler jumped into the bed beside her sisters and gathered them close.

_Thud._

_Thud._

_Thud._

Someone was coming up the stairs.

_Thud._

_Thud._

_Thud._

They were in the hallway.

_Thud._

_Thud._

_Thud._

They must be just outside Tyler’s door. There was a long pause.

_Knock, knock, knock._

“No one’s in here!” Channing squeaked out.

“Channing!” Tyler and Christen hissed in unison.

Christen still had the flashlight trained on the door, so all three girls watched, terrified, as the door handle slowly turned. Tyler held her breath, unable to imagine what kind of freak would sneak into their house and-

“BOO!”

All three girls screamed, their minds taking several moments to recognize their father in the doorway.

“DAD!” Tyler yelled.

Cody Press began laughing uncontrollably, clutching at his stomach as tears rolled down his cheeks. “Oh you should see your faces!”

“That was NOT funny!” Christen insisted, her voice indignant. “Not funny at all!”

“That’s where you’re wrong, baby cakes,” Stacy said, coming around the corner, the flashlight on her phone helping illuminate the room.

“Mommy!” Channing climbed out of the bed and ran towards their mother, apparently more quick to forgive than her sisters.

Stacy swung her up onto her hip and kissed her cheek. “Hi baby.”

“We were so scared!”

Tyler rolled her eyes, finally pushing Christen away from her and getting off the bed. “We weren’t _that_ scared.”

“Mm hm,” Cody laughed. “That’s why you screamed loud enough to be heard in Texas.”

“Well I thought you were a burglar! Or a murderer!”

He wrapped an arm around her shoulder and beckoned to Christen, inviting her over for a hug too. “Well maybe this will be a lesson to always lock the door when we’re not here.”

“The door was locked!” Tyler insisted.

Stacy gave her a look. “Until you didn’t lock it back.”

“Oh…”

“What about the lights? And the phone?” Christen asked.

He kissed her forehead. “I switched the breaker box off.”

Channing gave their mom a kiss. “I’m so happy you’re home.”

“Me too, honey bee. But why is your face covered in chocolate?”

Tyler and Christen shared a look. “She got into the pantry when we weren’t looking.”

Stacy shook her head. “Silly girl. You’re all our silly, wonderful girls.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tumblr: @thetheatrelady


	13. The Next 60 Minutes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sometimes a dare turns into a dream come true

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Next 60 Minutes  
> Pairing: Soran  
> Genre: Coming of Age  
> Rating: T  
> TW: none

“Alright Mal, truth or dare?” Sam asked. 

Mal shoved another mini Twix into her mouth. “Dare. I live for danger,” she managed through her mouthful of chocolate and caramel. 

Lindsey grinned. “I dare you to prank call Coach Ellis.”

Mal immediately nearly choked on her candy. “What?”

“Ooh, yes!” Rose clapped. “This will be great.”

“But… she’s gonna know it’s me! I’ll get in so much trouble.”

“I thought you lived for danger,” Emily snickered. 

“But…”

“Don’t wimp out or the next one will be way worse,” Lindsey warned. 

Mal groaned but pulled out her phone. She carefully typed in *67 and then their coach’s number. She pushed dial but immediately her brown eyes went wide. “Wait! What do I say?” But Coach Ellis picked you before anyone could answer her. 

“Uhh hello…” Mal said in the what was possibly the worlds worst British accent. “I was calling on behalf of… Arsenal Women Football Club. We… are calling to offer you the position of head coach-“

She broke off and her face went pale. “Yes ma’am,” she said softly in her normal voice. She hung up and let out a long breath. “She said I can run an extra 4 laps after practice on Monday.”

The other girls just laughed. “Alright, who’s next?” Sam asked. 

“Emily, truth or dare?”

Seeing the determination in Mal’s eyes, Emily picked truth. 

“Boring,” Mal proclaimed pelting her with a packet of skittles. 

“I have one!” Rose gave her a vaguely evi smile. “Truth: if you had to kiss anyone in the group, who would it be?”

Emily’s stomach sank. Of course Rose would pick tonight to pull this. It had been a few weeks since she had accidentally admitted to Rose that she had a crush on Lindsey. They had been drunk at a party, and Rose had never brought it up again so Emily thought she had forgotten. 

No such luck. 

“Cmon, what a lame question,” she replied, averting her eyes. 

“Tell us,” Mal cheered. “It’s me isn’t it?” She gave Emily her best pucker and the other girls followed suit, batting their eyelashes for effect. 

“I don’t want to kiss any of you, you have cooties,” Emily joked, grabbing another soda from Sam’s fridge. 

“Now are you sure that’s the _truth_ , Em?” Rose asked, crossing her arms.

“Yes,” she insisted through gritted teeth. 

Rose rolled her eyes. “Fine. Lindsey, truth or dare?”

Emily didn’t know which to pray that she would choose. 

“Hmmm… dare.”

All of the girls sat in silence for a moment, thinking. 

“I dare you to spend thirty minutes in the cemetery.”

Lindsey gave Sam an outraged look. “What the fuck did I ever do to you?!”

“Yes!” Mal crowed. 

Sam shrugged. “You said you wanted a dare.”

Lindsey looked pleadingly back and forth between all of them. “Guys. Cmon. I can’t go in the cemetery alone! That’s how people end up getting white girl murdered.”

“We won’t make you go alone,” Rose decided, and Lindsey began to relax. “Emily can go with you.”

“What?” Emily yelped.

“Consider it punishment for pussying out on your truth.”

“And since there’s two of you, you have to spend a full hour,” Mal amended. 

Emily and Lindsey made eye contact, both nervous but for markedly different reasons. 

* * *

Emily trudged down the cemetery path alongside Lindsey, shining her flashlight into the shadows. She glanced down at her watch and was dismayed that only three minutes had elapsed. 

“This is spooky as fuck,” Lindsey whispered.

“Nah, we’ll be fine,” Emily tried to assure her, but if she was being honest fine was the last thing she was feeling. 

“What about the ghosts?”

She grinned at her best friend, angling her flashlight up at her. “Aw, is the Great Horan actually scared?”

Lindsey failed to take the bait; instead she wrapped her hand around Emily’s elbow, tugging her closer. “Listen, there are just some things you don’t fuck with, and cemeteries are one of them. Are you really saying you’re not scared?”

 _You have no idea,_ Emily thought to herself. “I mean the thing we should really be worried about is the police catching us in here.”

“Wait, is this illegal?” Lindsey’s voice was high, no doubt imagining how unimpressed her parents would be if she got arrested. 

“I think so? I mean we did have to climb the fence to get in,” Emily laughed. 

“Great,” Lindsey grumbled, not relinquishing her grip on Emily’s arm. “Leave it to sweet, innocent Sam to stick me with the world's worst dare.”

“I mean you could have gotten my truth,” Emily said without thinking, rolling her eyes. 

“Oh yeah. What was that? You got so weird.”

She mentally slapped herself for bringing it up, and was almost relieved when a loud snapping noise made them both whirl around. 

They found themselves in a staring contest with a cat, who was obviously wondering what the hell they were doing. After several long moments it bounded away and they burst out laughing, relieved that they hadn’t seen a ghost or zombie, or worse, a security guard. 

They began to walk along the path again, looking at the tombstones they were passing. 

“This is like, the really old part,” Lindsey pointed out. “Look! Born 1833, died 1853. Man, she wasn’t even twenty one. What do you think she died of?”

Emily shrugged. “Dunno. Dysentery?”

Lindsey snorted. “Yeah Sonny. They must have thrown her off the covered wagon as they drove past.”

Emily shrugged with a smile. “You don’t know!”

“Oh wow, look at this one! Born 1802, died 1905. She was so old! I hope I live that long.”

“Me too. Well, unless I have to spend all 103 years with someone like Derrick.”

Lindsey giggled. “He’s not so bad! I mean, he’s cute.”

“If you say so. I think he’s annoying.”

“So you really don’t like guys at all?”

Emily scratched at the back of her neck, not happy with the direction this conversation was headed. “Not really, no.”

Lindsey just hummed. 

“I mean, think of it like this: you’re 100% into guys, 0% into girls. That’s me except in reverse.”

She didn’t realize Lindsey had stopped walking until she had taken several steps. She turned to find her best friend giving her a strange look. 

“Linds?”

“Who said I was 100% anything?” Before Emily had the chance to register what she was saying, Lindsey’s eyes went wide. “Fuck. Cmon!” She seized Emily’s hand and dragged her off of the path, through the tombstones. 

Before she knew it she was being pushed to the ground behind a crypt, Lindsey pressing on top of her. Emily swallowed thickly and tried to calm her frantically beating heart. She hoped that if by some chance Lindsey could feel it she would attribute it to fear of being caught. 

“What is it?” She finally whispered. 

“I saw another flashlight, it must be a guard,” Lindsey breathed back. Her breath was warm against Emily’s cheek, making her shiver slightly. “Sorry, I must be totally crushing you.” Lindsey made to shift their position. 

“No!” Emily yelped. Lindsey slapped her palm over Emily’s mouth. 

“Aren’t you ever quiet?” She whispered, rolling her eyes. 

They laid in the musty grass, trying to silence their breaths as they strained to hear any footsteps over the nearby crickets. 

“I think he’s gone,” Lindsey finally said, removing her hand from Emily’s mouth. 

“That’s sexist. It could totally be a lady security guard.”

“That is so not the point.” Lindsey suddenly looked down and gave her a sheepish look. “Sorry. I know I’m heavy.” She started to move off of Emily, but she grabbed her around the waist on instinct, holding her in place.

“You’re not.” She ignored Lindsey’s strange look. “Anyway, what if the lady guard comes back?” she asked, as if that had anything to do with why she didn’t want Lindsey to stand up.

They lay in silence for several seconds then Lindsey asked, “Are you cold?”

Emily shook her head slightly. “No. Why?”

“You’re like… shaking,” Lindsey replied with a slight laugh.

“Oh. Um…”

She put a hand to Emily’s cheek. “You’re a little chilly.” She bent her head and pressed a soft kiss to the skin in question. “Is that better?” she softly asked.

Emily was sure that she must be dreaming. She blinked up at her best friend dumbly. “Yeah,” she finally whispered.

“Is anywhere else cold?”

Her heart in her throat, Emily nodded then closed the distance, pressing her lips against Lindsey’s.

Kissing Lindsey was… it wasn’t how she had imagined it. Because God knows she had imagined it time and time again. She had assumed it would be like fireworks, a huge powerful moment that seemed to send a shock through the very fiber of her being. But it wasn’t. Instead, it was like sunshine on an otherwise cold day, warming her from the inside out. She brought a hand up and cupped her cheek, pulling her closer as their lips moved against each other. Lindsey tasted sweet, like the candy she had been eating earlier, and Emily wondered if there was a single better taste in the entire world.

Lindsey finally pulled back and Emily opened her eyes, slowly coming back to Earth. “Are you still cold?” Lindsey asked.

Emily couldn’t help but laugh. “Getting warmer.” She tangled her fingers into her long blonde hair and pulled her back in for more.

It was the beeping of Emily’s watch that eventually broke them apart, signaling that their sixty minutes were up. They made their way to their feet, dusting the dirt and grass from their clothes, and began to pick their way out of the cemetery, hand in hand. They climbed the fence and, finding none of their friends waiting for them, walked back to Sam’s.

The other three were in the den, Mal already asleep on the couch, Sam looking like she was close to following. Only Rose looked wide awake.

“What happened?” Sam asked. “Did you see any ghosts?”

“No ghosts. But we did almost get caught by the security guard, so I hope you were ready to pay our bail,” Emily teased.

“With what? The whole sixteen dollars that I made babysitting last week?”

“So what did you do for the hour you were inside?” Rose asked as they all got settled under blankets to watch a movie.

Emily gave a decidedly casual shrug. “You know. Just… talked.”

Rose narrowed her eyes. “Talked? About what?”

“Stuff,” Emily replied, at the same time Lindsey said “Soccer.”

“Hmmm.” Rose’s eyes flitted back forth between them. “Interesting.”

“Not really,” Emily assured her with a nervous laugh.

“Hey Linds, wasn’t your hair in a ponytail when you left?”

Emily’s eyes snapped over to where Lindsey’s hair, sure enough was down and free exactly how she had left it.

“Uhh…” Lindsey looked at Emily and they seemed to be in agreeance: they didn’t want to share this with anyone. Not yet.

“Guess we saw a ghost after all,” Emily shrugged, and Rose rolled her eyes, pressing play on the remote. Under the blanket they were sharing, Lindsey took Emily’s hand and Emily smiled. This felt exactly right.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tumblr: @thetheatrelady


	14. The Carving

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Carving pumpkins has never been so sweet

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Carving  
> Pairing: Krashlyn  
> Genre: Fluff  
> Rating: K  
> TW: none

The light glinted off of the long butcher knife, reflecting up, onto the ceiling, calling out a warning to any who entered. A large hand wrapped around the handle, gripping it tightly . It raised, up, up, up, poised to rip flesh apart with its razor sharp blade. Then, with a whoosh, it was brought down with a grunt.

Ali rolled her eyes. “Ash could you be careful, please? The last thing I want to do tonight is go to the emergency room.”

Her wife grinned up at her from the kitchen floor. “Don’t worry about me, I’m fine.” She began to saw the knife back and forth through the top of the pumpkin, making a circle and pulling it away.

“Ewww!” cried the toddler in Ali’s arms, cuddling closer into her mother’s neck. “Yucky.”

Ali smiled, smoothing her hand over her daughter’s soft blond curls. “It’s just the seeds.”

Ashlyn made a funny face and pulled out a handful. “It’s the pumpkin’s guts, bleh!”

Ali laughed and placed Josie on the ground. “Why don’t you help Momma with the guts while I get a bowl?”

Josie scurried forward and Ashlyn moved the knife far away. The three year old squirmed into her lap and plunged her hands into the pumpkin. “Ewww!” she repeated.

Ali returned with the large bowl they usually used for popcorn, and Josie helped Ashlyn clear out the pumpkin guts, even trying to help scrape the sides. Once it was clean, Ashlyn rotated it around and took the sharpie out of her shirt pocket. “Alright love bug, what should we carve into the front?”

Josie thought very hard. “A unicorn!” she yelled, making both of her mothers laugh.

“Mm okay, let’s see what I can do.” She began to try to sketch out the mythical creature as Josie pushed the bowl towards where Ali was sitting at the table.

“Mommy, what do we do with this?”

Ali pulled her onto her lap, wiping off her hands with a dishtowel. “Well, when I was a little girl, Gigi would have Uncle Kyle and I pick the seeds out and then she would roast them in the oven for a snack.”

Josie leaned over and scrutinized the bowl of filling suspiciously. “A snack?”

“That’s right. They’re pretty yummy!”

She pursed her lips in a very Ashlyn way, making Ali hold back giggles. “Sure, Mommy.”

“Okay, I’m going to start carving with the sharp knife, so you need to stay with Mommy, alright?”

Josie nodded and she and Ali both watched as Ash took a deep breath before picking up the knife and beginning to carve.

“Guess what we’re going to do tomorrow, love bug?” Ali asked.

“What?”

“When I pick you up from day care we’re going to go to Gigi’s house so we can try on our costumes!”

Josie’s eyes went wide and she sucked in a breath. “Alice?!”

Ali smiled. “Yup. You’ll get to put on your Alice in Wonderland costume.”

“Yay!” she cheered, clapping her hands gleefully. “But… Mommy what will you be?”

“Well Gigi is making me a Queen of Hearts costume.”

Josie threw out her hands. “Off with your heads!” Deb had shown her the old Alice in Wonderland movie one afternoon while keeping her and the little girl had quickly become obsessed.

“That’s right,” Ali laughed, holding tight to Josie so she didn’t topple backwards.

“And Momma?”

Ashlyn looked up from the pumpkin. “I’m going to be the Mad Hatter.”

“Yes!” She started to say something else but then her face dropped. “Potty!” she screeched.

Ali quickly put her down and she ran for the bathroom. “Do you need help?”

“No!” This was followed by the slamming of the bathroom door.

“Man, I thought we’d have a bit longer before the door slamming started,” Ashlyn laughed.

Ali stood up and walked closer. “How is the unicorn coming?”

Ashlyn gave her a look and gestured playfully at her with the knife. “Don’t you dare laugh at me, Ali Krieger.”

She smiled sweetly. “I would never laugh at you, or your impeccable art skills.”

“I’m serious.”

“So am I! I’m honestly asking.”

“Unicorns are really hard!” Ashlyn pouted, holding the pumpkin close so that Ali couldn’t see.

“I’m sure it’s a masterpiece, baby.”

Ashlyn sighed and slowly turned it around for her wife to see. Ali slapped a hand over her mouth, but a laugh escaped all the same.

“Ali!”

“It’s… it’s beautiful, Ash.” Her eyes were tearing up. The poor, poor bedraggled creature on the pumpkin definitely had a horn, but that’s where the similarities to a unicorn stopped.

“You said you wouldn’t laugh,” she pouted, and Ali sat down next to her, wrapping an arm around her back.

“She’s going to love it.”

“She’s going to laugh at it because she’s _cruel_ like her _mother._ ”

Ali pressed a kiss to her cheek. “No, she’s going to be delighted because she has _imagination_ like her other mother.” She listened for a second then called out, “Josie? Everything okay?”

“Yes!”

“Maybe the next one will like something easier to draw, like a heart.”

Ali pressed her nose in Ashlyn’s shoulder. “Next one?”

Her wife smiled, looking down at the pumpkin. “The next one. Whenever that happens.”

“Ash…”

“It’s no rush. Seriously.”

“It’s not that I don’t… I just don’t know if I can handle the stress again,” Ali confided quietly. “All of the tests and the counting and watching and waiting. And obviously, it was worth it because we got Josie, but…”

“I know. It was rough,” Ashlyn agreed, turning to kiss Ali’s forehead.

“But I also know that we both wanted more than one. And Josie would be a great big sister.”

“Of course she would, that kid could direct an army.”

Ali laughed. “I just… I’m not saying no to getting pregnant again. But… maybe we can also look at other options. We could adopt or even…”

“Even?”

“Well we’ve talked about fostering before.”

“Yeah,” Ash smiled.

“Are you disappointed? You can tell me if you are.”

Ashlyn scoffed. “Are you kidding me? No way. I’m married to the most amazing woman on earth and we have a perfectly healthy, perfectly happy daughter. What about that could ever be a disappointment?”

Ali sighed. “But I know you want-”

“I want a family, which we have. And true, I’ve always pictured a big, loud family that’s bursting at the seems, but we’ll get there. There are more ways to make a family. And I’m open to any of them as long as I’m with you.”

Ali kissed her gently. “Okay.”

“Just you wait baby. Give me ten years and we’ll have a whole porch full of pumpkins, each representing a kid that we have loved.”

“How did I get so lucky to marry you?” Ali asked, her voice almost star struck.

“Honestly? It was the ass for me.” This made Ali throw her head back, laughing loudly.

“Mommy, Momma, look!” They both turned to see Josie in the doorway, smiling proudly. “Lolo and Stormy dress up too!” The two women couldn’t but crack up. Logan was wrapped up in what appeared to be Ashlyn’s navy blue robe, staring reproachfully at them. Storm on the other hand, was jumping up to lick at Josie’s face, her previously white fur stained pink with lipstick.

“What did you do, silly girl?” Ashlyn asked.

“Did you get in Mommy’s makeup bag?”

Josie smiled. “Stormy is the Chesser Cat!” she said proudly, unable to pronounce Cheshire.

“And what’s Lolo?” Ashlyn asked.

“Caterpillar!”

“You did such a good job!” Ali assured her, and Josie ran over snuggling into her lap. She grabbed Ashlyn’s hand.

“Can Lolo and Stormy come to trick or treat?”

“Oh, they better stay home, love bug. They have to protect the house from _ghoOoOoOosts!_ ” she said in a spooky voice.

Josie looked very alarmed for one moment, then relaxed. “Momma, no ghosts,” she giggled, rolling her eyes.

Ali laughed and kissed her cheek. “No baby, no ghosts here. Do you wanna see Momma’s pumpkin?” she asked, earning a dirty look from her wife.

“Yes!” Josie clapped.

Ashlyn turned it around and the three year old looked at it for a long moment before climbing into Ashlyn’s lap and giving her a kiss and a hug. “Momma it’s BEAUTIFUL,” she declared.

Ali and Ashlyn shared a look and Ali felt a warmth settle into her chest. A porch full of pumpkins and a house full of love. That’s what they would have.


	15. The Dinner

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They all came to the Old Clayton house, unaware of the tragedy that had struck, and the investigation that would follow.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Dinner  
> Pairing: Krashlyn, implied Preath  
> Genre: Mystery  
> Rating: T  
> TW: minor violence

They all arrived at the old Clayton mansion within a fifteen minute span. Say what you will about the desolate expanse of the frontier, but when your town boasts nothing more than a saloon, a general store, and a few other ramshackle buildings, all coated in a fine layer of dust, there is nothing to delay you, nothing to make you tardy from your ultimate destination.

It was a grand old house, truly out of place on the Texas frontier. It screamed money, something most people in these parts were sorely in need of, and so it also screamed greed and indifference to all those who looked upon it.

The Maid was standing by the door, dutifully inviting each guest inside, taking coats and bags and delivering the same message in a nervous voice, still holding a hint of an Irish accent: “The Master is taking a rest before dinner. He bids you welcome and asks that you retire to the parlor and have a drink. He will join you shortly.” She said it in a way that suggested she might have practiced this small speech several times, desperate to get it right.

The Widow was the first to arrive. She was clad, as always, in her long black dress, surely stifling hot in the Texas sun. She wore a veil in her hair, and a stern expression on her face. She had grimaced at The Maid’s suggestion that she have a drink. Alcohol was evil, it was for lowlifes and lay abouts, everyone knew that. The Widow was an upstanding woman in society. She would not imbibe. She needed to keep her wits about her anyhow. She instead stood in front of the bookcase built into the parlor wall, her eyes scanning the volumes, unsure of what she was looking for.

The Rancher was next. With almost every man in the settlement gone on a cattle drive, she had been left behind to watch the ranch. She didn’t mind the exclusion; indeed, she enjoyed the quiet it gave her. But still, overseeing the remaining livestock in the men’s absence was no easy job, and she had been up before the sun to ensure everything was taken care of. She handed over her wide brimmed hat to The Maid and apologized in a soft voice for her dusty clothes. She strode into the parlor and poured herself a tumbler of whiskey, choosing to lean against the far wall so that she wouldn’t sully the beautiful furnishings.

The Niece actually lived in the great old house, or at least was staying there. She had been out on her daily constitutional, walking the dirt paths that everyone generously called roads, her sharp eyes taking in the details around her. She had inherited her Uncle Jeremiah’s astute eye. Actually the two were quite alike in many ways, although neither was able to see it. He found his niece from the East too contrary, vulgar, and unaware of her position. She found her Western uncle to be stuck in the past, a brute, and a bore. Both were stubborn and loud and fierce, incredibly sure that they were right. She came back into the house and winked at the maid, smoothing her fingers over her short, white blonde locks, then joining the others in the parlor.

Next was a pair, as life would have it. The Madam and The Working Girl were visions of beauty sweeping onto the porch. Their long, dark hair was pinned up into fashionable, curled updos. The women of the town had nothing but disdain for their painted cheeks and lips, their beautiful, daring gowns, but the men were bewitched, their eyes following them as if against their will. Tonight, The Working Girl was dressed uncharacteristically modestly, the neck of her dress nearly going up to her chin. But even without the tantalizing flash of skin, she was still alluring, and their arrival in the house left more than one occupant a little hot under the collar. The women took a seat on the silk settee, arranging their skirts around them like proper ladies and accepting an offer of drinks from The Rancher.

The Debutante was every bit as beautiful as The Madam and The Working Girl, but if they were a dark, sultry autumn evening by the fire, smelling of cloves and cinnamon, then she was a spring morning, bright and clean and fresh. Her blue eyes seemed a little too large for her face, in a way that drew you in, making you ready to risk and life and limb to make her smile. She largely ignored The Maid, but was all demure eyes and soft hands for the inhabitants of the parlor. She seemed to float in like the scent of honeysuckle on a breeze. She was no doubt a lovely, lovely being, and everyone that saw her felt better off for it.

Finally, there was The Sheriff. She arrived last, and this was entirely on purpose. She had learned in her line of work that one could never be too prepared, that things happen when you least expect them. So she smiled at The Maid, handing over her coat but not the pistol at her hip, and slipped into the parlor. Her eyes swept over everyone present, nodding, seeming to be counting to herself. However, when she was done, she looked perturbed. She cocked an eyebrow at The Niece. “Where is-” but then the door flew open.

Her cheeks were flushed, her dark curls threatening to escape from the severe twist. “Apologies,” she gasped out. “I know the invitation was clear about the time, but,” she gave a twinkling laugh. “Babies rarely pay attention to social commitments.”

The Niece handed her a drink and she sat next to The Madam, who gave her a questioning look. “Samantha?”

The Doctor nodded. “Mrs. Johnson is resting comfortably with a baby boy. Long, as to be expected.” She took a sip of her drink and winced.

The Maid stepped into the room, her hands fiddling nervously with her apron. “If you… would join me in the dining room,” she suggested. “Dinner will be served… shortly.”

The guests did as they were told, The Widow taking the time to lean over to The Madam. “The poor stupid thing acts like she’s never had to speak in her life. I suppose it’s lucky for her that a good servant isn’t heard anyway,” she sniffed.

The Working Girl saw The Maid blush furiously, and she grabbed her hand surreptitiously. “Ignore her,” she whispered. “She’s an old busy body.”

Once they were seated, The Maid hovered near the doorway, clearly torn about what to do.

The Widow gave a heavy sigh. “For goodness sake, girl, would you fetch your master before we all starve to death?”

The Maid gave a tiny squeak, and dashed from the room.

The Rancher gave her a look. “Handled with grace as usual, Widow Lloyd.”

She refused to be cowed. “It is not my fault that the girl hasn’t the sense of a common bird,” she replied, looking down her nose at the blonde woman.

The Maid appeared in the doorway once more. “Erm… Sheriff Heath, if you… could come upstairs?”

She furrowed her eyebrows but followed her all the same, taking them two at a time. Once they were on the upstairs landing, The Maid pointed to the door at the end of the hall.

“Mister Clayton… his door is locked. I can… not open it. And he isn’t answering.”

The Sheriff hummed, approaching the door. She bent down, studying the door handle and the keyhole. She turned to The Maid. “Might I borrow a hair pin?”

The maid pulled one from her low, blonde bun, and The Sheriff took it, carefully picking the lock until it clicked open. She came to her feet and pushed open the door revealing the room to them both.

It was The Maid’s scream that alerted the other guests that a tragedy had happened.

Jeremiah Clayton, The Banker, was laying on his bed, eyes open and staring at nothing. His hand seemed to be clutching at his chest, as if he had been in a great deal of pain. The skin of his face and neck seemed red and swollen. There was vomit on his jacket and the quilt beneath him.

A clattering on the stairs alerted The Sheriff to the others’ presence. She turned to see The Rancher, her hazel eyes wide, and The Niece, her face pinched. She held up a hand. “Don’t come any closer,” she warned. “Harris, if you would go and fetch Dr. Press for me, Megan, if you would kindly inform the guests of recent events and instruct no one to leave.”

They both nodded, and set about their business. The Sheriff rubbed a hand over her face. She didn’t particularly like The Banker, no one really did, but she didn’t like the idea that anyone should have to pass from this world alone and in pain. It seemed needlessly cruel.

There was a knock on the door, then a gasp. She turned to see The Doctor in doorway.

“Heavens…”

“Indeed.” She beckoned her further in. “How long has he been gone?” The Doctor began to examine the corpse, her finger skating over his skin.

“A few hours, I would say,” she murmured.

“And cause of death?”

The Doctor exhaled shakily. “Undetermined? Possibly a heart attack. There’s a family history, and he’d recently visited me complaining of chest pain.”

“Or what else?”

She swallowed. “He’s been sick. Not unheard of for a heart attack, but not typical. And his skin…” She traced the red welts on his face and neck.

“What do the symptoms point to?”

The Doctor stood up, her eyes on the ground. “Poison.”

The Sheriff didn’t speak again until they rejoined the guests downstairs. The Debutante was wiping at her eyes with a handkerchief, and all of the gathered women were speaking in low whispers, shocked at the evening’s turn of events.

“Is it true, Sheriff?” The Working Girl asked as she came into the room. “He’s really gone?”

She nodded. “Yes, Miss Ali. Jeremiah Clayton is dead.”

The Debutante gave a sob, which earned an eye roll from The Madam. “So I suppose this birthday celebration is a bit in poor taste then. Come Ali, we’ll eat back at the saloon.” They both stood but The Sheriff lifted her hand.

“It won’t be that simple, I’m afraid, Miss Alex.”

“Why not?”

“Because he was murdered.”

This earned a gasp The Debutante, who was nearly beside herself. The Niece shakily sat down. “What do you mean, murdered?”

“I mean, someone poisoned him. Someone wanted him out of the way. And that person is almost certainly sitting in this room with us.”

“Oh don’t be preposterous,” The Madam laughed. “No one in this room is a murderer.”

“Yes, _some_ of us are moral pillars of this community,” The Widow responded, no one missing her tone.

The Madam merely smiled. “Oh you’ll find I know all about the _pillars_ of this community. So if you could bite your tongue, Widow Lloyd. Or I’ll bite it for you.”

“Ladies,” The Rancher said lightly, hiding a smile at The Madam’s barbs.

“Why would one of us be the murderer?” The Niece asked.

The Sheriff smiled. “Because he was murdered today, ruling out all of the men gone on the cattle drive. Most of the settlements are too far away to wager that they interrupted the day’s chores to come in for something as inconsequential as a murder. And besides,” she sat in the wing back chair nearest the parlor door and crossed her ankle to rest on her knee, “Everyone in this room has ample motive.”

“I shudder at what you’re insinuating, Sheriff,” The Widow sniffed.

“If we’re going to be here much longer, I’m going to require food,” The Rancher interrupted apologetically. “It’s just, I haven’t eaten since breakfast and I’ve been out riding pens all day…”

“Of course,” The Sheriff agreed. “Let us sup as we discuss the matter.” She nodded at The Maid who was trembling in the corner. “If you could serve the food, dear.”

“Wait!” Everyone turned to where The Widow had drawn herself up to her full height. “What if she’s the murderer? I won’t have her touching my food!”

“Honestly…” The Working Girl scoffed, but The Sheriff stood up with a nod.

“She’s quite right. Perhaps we should attend to some matters of business first.”

The Maid looked around, her mouth gaping like a fish out of water. “Oh mo dhia!” she whispered.

“None of that,” The Widow snapped. “We speak English.”

The Sheriff gave her a look and she fell silent, huffing her disapproval.

“What’s your name?”

“Emily,” the girl whimpered.

“Okay Emily. Why don’t you have a seat here on the ottoman?” She did as she was told, seeming oh so young. “Are you the only servant of this house, Emily?”

Emily shook her head. “Lindsey works with… me, as a maid. Kelley… is the cook. Kelley’s sister… is sick. So she left…. After preparing the food for… tonight.”

“Great, so this cook poisoned him!” The Widow exclaimed. “And we would have been next!”

The Niece gave her a cool look. “I ate lunch with my uncle today. We ate from the dish of roast and potatoes and as you can see, you’re still blessed with my appearance. So I think we can hardly blame The Cook for these unfortunate circumstances.”

“Well then, back to her!” The widow pointed a bony finger. “She’s the one who greeted me when I arrived. Who’s to say that she didn’t kill her master before we arrived?” She turned her head to The Debutante. “Everyone knows, after all that the Irish are a violent, unpredictable people.”

“That’s enough, Widow Lloyd,” The Sheriff snapped. She turned back to The Maid. “Describe the events of this afternoon, please.”

She gave a jerky nod. “After lunch… ironing. And mending one of Master… Clayton’s jackets. Then dusting… the parlor. To prepare for tonight’s…” She broke off and The Sheriff gave her a gentle smile.

“Party?”

She nodded gratefully. “At around… two, Master… Clayton arrived home… and said he wanted to… rest. And not to disturb… him until everyone arrived.”

“Thank you, Emily. If you don’t mind me saying, you have a very odd way of speaking.”

The Maid cast her eyes downward. “My accent… is strong if I don’t… watch it. It made Master… Clayton angry.”

“Why?”

“He said I sound… like riff raff.” Her miserable face took on an angry look. “That I sound… like an uneducated bas, bastard child.” She gave a sniff. “He said I should… be thankful that he even… let me clean his floors.”

“A right old ass,” The Working Girl said under her breath.

“So you were the last to see him before he went upstairs?”

“Lindsey, Kelley, and… myself, yes Miss.”

The Widow sniffed and everyone in the room knew what she was thinking.

“That’s not quite true,” The Niece said. “I was coming down to the library as he went up. I watched him go inside and heard the door lock behind him.”

The Rancher turned to The Widow. “Are you satisfied? Might we eat now?”

She scoffed but lifted her hand, and everyone took that as consent to go back into the dining room. Once in their seats, The Maid placed their plates in front of them and then began to retreat to the kitchen. “Not so fast, Emily. If you would make yourself a plate and join us?” The Sheriff gestured to the empty seat.

“I beg your pardon?” The Widow spluttered, and The Debutante wrinkled her nose.

“A servant? At the table and the host’s chair no less?”

“I might have more questions,” The Sheriff explained. The Maid slowly did as she was told, visibly uncomfortable at what was happening.

“The scandal,” The Madam smiled, obviously enjoying The Widow’s disapproval.

“Now, Widow Lloyd, you were the first to arrive today, is that correct?”

She gave The Sheriff a dirty look. “I don’t appreciate your tone.”

She shrugged, picking up her fork. “It’s just a question.”

She sighed. “Yes. I was. I’m a very punctual person.”

“I’m aware. And remind me… how long have you been ‘Widow’ Lloyd?”

She dabbed at her lips with her napkin. “My late husband passed away five years ago.”

“I see. And how did he pass away?”

“It was a tragic accident. He was… kicked by a horse.”

“I’m terribly sorry for your loss.”

“Thank you,” she sniffed.

“Was the horse new?”

She blinked at The Sheriff. “I… no?”

“I see. And your husband. Did he not have experience with horses?”

She stiffened. “He’d owned horses since he was a boy, of course.”

“I see.” The Sheriff turned to The Rancher. “Harris, might I borrow your expertise?”

She nodded, bent low over her plate. “You can try.”

“What would you say is the first piece of advice one learns in regards to horses.”

She hummed. “Don’t try to outrun them?” she grinned.

The Sheriff laughed, nodding. “And the second?”

“Don’t get on their backside.”

“And why is that?”

The Rancher squirmed a bit. “Well, because even the most well-bred horse can get spooked and kick you.”

The Sheriff turned back to The Widow. “Now, I wasn’t living here yet, but surely the town sheriff raised some questions to this effect?”

The Widow glared at her. “No. Because he could see that I was grieving, and he had far more tact than you do.”

“I’m terribly sorry. I guess what I’m just wondering if your late husband would have known that?”

“Well of course he would have!”

“Then why would have been behind the horse?”

“What does his have to do with Jeremiah?” she snapped.

The Sheriff smiled. “Oh, everything, Widow Lloyd. Tell me, what was your husband like?”

She stilled. “He was… my husband,” she replied, flustered.

“A good man? A loyal man? A temperate man?”

“I don’t approve of this-”

“Perhaps he was a bit of a drinker?”

The Widow gasped. “Why I never!”

“Is that a yes?”

“That’s a yes,” The Madam replied. “We were… quite familiar with The Widow’s late husband at the saloon. Vodka, if I remember correctly.”

“Slander!”

“Now on its own,” The Sheriff cut in, “that doesn’t mean much. But I know that you’re a proud woman, Widow Lloyd. So it seems to stand that you wouldn’t stand for that kind of philandering.”

The Widow seemed to shake with anger. “He was a nuisance!” she hissed. “He was going to spend all of our money on liquor and, and cheap whores!”

The Working Girl looked down, abashed, but The Madam met her gaze straight on. “I think you’ll find that nothing about me is cheap, dear. In fact, you’re the one who gave it away for marriage, and look what that got you.”

The Sheriff interrupted again. “So you took out your late husband, something we will discuss at a later date, but that brings us back to now. Why do you call Mr. Clayton by his first name?”

The Widow paled. “What?”

“You call him Jeremiah. Why would a proper lady such as yourself be so familiar with him?”

“We were… old friends,” she said delicately.

“He wanted to marry you,” The Niece interjected.

“Why- I-”

“Is that true?” The Sheriff asked.

The Widow swallowed. “He had… proposed as much.”

“And you said?”

“No, of course!”

“Why?”

The Widow gave a sarcastic look. “Why should I trust the properties and wealth I inherited to another man. I have done just fine for myself, and I wasn’t about to let myself be jeopardized again.”

The Sheriff drummed her fingers against the table. “So you kept playing the grieving widow card, refusing. But if he had even suspected about your late husband…”

“He would have black mailed you to Kingdome come,” The Madam finished sweetly.

“So that’s it? I’m tried and convicted by this sad jury?” she spluttered.

The Sheriff sighed. “if only it were that easy, Widow Lloyd. But I don’t believe you killed Mr. Clayton, just that you would have liked to. Emily.” The Maid snapped her head up. “You said he arrived home at two?” She nodded. “Do you know where he was?”

The Doctor cleared her throat. “He had come to my office.”

The Sheriff nodded. “I see. Why?”

“Mr. Clayton had been experiencing chest pain, as I said earlier.”

“That was the only symptom?”

The Doctor pressed her lips together primly. “He also said he’d had problems… performing manly duties,” she offered delicately.

“Ah,” The Sheriff said. “Well… don’t we all.” A laugh rippled through the women.

“He was… quite distressed about it. And when I wasn’t able to guarantee a treatment he flew into a rage.”

“He did?”

She nodded. “I told him the best I could do was prescribe a regiment of aspirin to help with the chest pain, and a specialty tea to help with… robustness.”

“Containing?”

“Lotus, which the medical community thinks may help. Other than that it was mainly chamomile and valerian. I thought it might behoove him to relax.” She raised a finger. “But I was very careful to never guarantee a miracle.”

“Did he mention what unfortunate woman he needed this for?” She shook her head and The Sheriff turned a questioning eye to The Widow.

“How dare you!”

“I… might be of some assistance on this manner,” The Madam said. She took a sip of her iced tea before raising her eyes to look at The Sheriff. “Mr. Clayton was… well acquainted with my establishment.”

The Sheriff tried to curb a smile. “I’m sure.”

“He hadn’t visited as much since Megan was in town, but he was in last night.”

“I see. And who did…” The Madam placed her hand on The Working Girl’s shoulder. “Ah. I see. So you saw him last night, Miss Ali?”

“That’s right,” she said quietly.

“And I’m assuming… you witnessed his problem firsthand?”

She blushed but nodded.

“My apologies,” The Niece replied, easing the air in the room.

“And… how did he react?”

The Working Girl’s eyes darted from The Sheriff to The Rancher. “It… it wasn’t good.”

“Can you elaborate?”

She sighed and reached up, slowly unbuttoning the high collar of her dress, finally pulling it open to reveal dark bruises encircling her throat. The Niece hissed sympathetically and The Debutante’s eyes grew large, perhaps seeing for the first time exactly what the strength of men was capable of producing. The Doctor stood up and strode forward. “May I?”

The Working Girl nodded, and allowed The Doctor to examine her throat, hissing when she pressed on the particularly sensitive spots.

“Had this happened before?” The Sheriff asked gently.

She nodded. “He… he’s getting older. And he… he likes brunettes, so often he would… we were well acquainted. But last night was,” she broke off with a shudder. “I had never seen him so upset.”

“I don’t think permanent damage was done, but not because of lack of effort,” The Doctor said darkly.

“I think he could have killed me and not felt a bit of remorse,” The Working Girl admitted.

“I’m really sorry, Miss Ali,” The Sheriff whispered. “But, that does provide motive for two more people to want Jeremiah Clayton dead.”

The Madam scoffed. “If I killed every man who roughed up my girls I wouldn’t have any clientele left.”

“Not you.” The Sheriff turned her eyes to The Rancher. “You.”

The Rancher glanced up, looking like a deer caught in a trap. “I’m… sorry?”

“I don’t think it’s any secret that you and Miss Ali are… fond of each other.”

The Rancher scratched at the back of her neck. “We have… lots in common.”

“Such as?”

“We both have older brothers. And we both enjoy the outdoors,” she explained lamely.

“And I can read,” The Working Girl interjected. “So I read… to us.”

“You see, when you bared the marks Jeremiah Clayton left on you, Miss Ali, I was looking around he table, at everyone else’s reaction. And while we were all in for quite the shock, Harris didn’t seem surprised at all.” She turned to look at The Rancher. “You’d already seen them hadn’t you?”  
“Yes,” she admitted. “Ali had already shown me.”

“And when was that? Keep in mind, Harris, that this is not the time to lie.”

“Last night,” The Working Girl interjected. “After it happened, I was… upset. So I went out to the ranch.”

“It’s true,” The Madam vouched.

“I believe you.” The Sheriff smiled. “And then you stayed all night, cooking breakfast this morning?”

The Working Girl flushed, caught in the earlier exposition.

“So you both had a reasonable cause to want to murder him. But, I don’t think either of you are likely. Harris, you were out on the ranch all day, and Miss Ali I severely doubt you would have wanted to be within ten feet of him today. Which brings us to you.” Her eyes settled on The Madam.

She smiled. “Let’s hear it then.”

“You don’t hold much esteem for Widow Lloyd, do you?”

“No. Not quite. I find her to be a judgmental old hag,” she responded, fluttering her eyelashes.

The Sheriff. “That’s interesting, since the two of you have so much in common.”

This earned a laugh. “Oh I can’t wait to hear this.”

“You see, Mr. Clayton hurt Miss Ali with his lust. But you and Widow Lloyd… classic cases of greed.”

“Do enlighten me.”

“I would love to,” The Sheriff replied. “But perhaps we would all be more comfortable retiring to the parlor now that dinner is done.”

The Debutante glanced out the front window as they came in. “A storm has rolled in. It’ll hit any moment.” As if to underline her statement, thunder cracked through the air. The Maid began to flit about, lighting the oil lamps as they all took their seats.

“Now as I was saying, Miss Alex: Greed.”

“Well I don’t think you’ll find anyone who dares to call him generous.”

“No. Nor you.”

She smiled. “I’ve never had complaints.”

The Sheriff smiled, refusing to be flustered. “Did you know they’re considering running the railroad through our area?”

“I did not.”

“It could mean wonderful things for the town. As a railroad stop we’ll get more visitors, not to mention more residents. This would mean more customers for the saloon and consequentially, your girls.”

“Whoopee for us.”

“The only problem is… Mr. Clayton wanted to open another saloon, right next to the station.”

The Madam’s beautiful lips twisted sourly. “Oh?”

“But you already knew that.”

She brushed at a non-existent smudge on her dress. “That… bastard. After everything I’ve done for him…” She sucked a breath in through the nose. “Who do you think put up with his rancid breath and sweaty body before Ali arrived here? And he was going to cut the saloon off at the knees.”

“But with him dead, your competition dies too.”

Exactly,” she said with a sharp toothed smile. “So figure out who it was, and quick, because I’d like to send them a thank you card.”

“Touché,” said The Niece, raising her drink.

“You’ve been awfully quiet as the only person related to Clayton,” The Sheriff pointed out.

She shrugged. “Exactly. I was related to him. So I know better than anyone what a giant pile of horse shit he was. None of this is a surprise to me.”

“Tell us, why did you travel all the way from New York to stay with your uncle?”

She sighed. “My father passed away, and my mother, Uncle Jeremiah’s sister, decided to go stay with my older sister in Vermont. I was given the choice of here or there, and unfortunately I chose here. My mistake.”

“You don’t like it here?”

“I think I’d like it a lot more if I were a man,” The Niece said frankly. I thought there might be some freedom out here on the frontier, after all isn’t this where men go to be wild? But once again I find myself limited by the constraints of my own sex.”

The Sheriff leaned back in her chair. “I don’t think you’ll find arguments against that in this room.”

The Debutante gave a tiny cough. “I quite enjoy being a woman. Sometimes it’s so nice to sit and be quiet.”

“Sometimes. But it’s not as if we’re given a choice, is it?” The Niece challenged.

“Tell me, did your uncle have any children?”

“No.”

“So with his death, to whom does his estate fall to?”

She shrugged. “My mother, I imagine. But I couldn’t say for certain.”

“It wouldn’t benefit you at all?”

“Again, I couldn’t say.”

“But with him dead, isn’t it true that he can no longer contribute to those charities he found useful? Perhaps the ones that you found repulsive?”

The Niece gave a tight-lipped smile. “A shame.”

The Sheriff chuckled. “Indeed.” She cleared her throat. “Now, Miss Johnston. You have been very quiet tonight. You’ve barely spoken a word.”

The Debutante turned away from the window, settling onto the sofa. “I’ve been… listening. This has all been very upsetting.”

“I’m sure,” The Sheriff murmured. “Although, I must say I find your presence here… odd.”

“Odd?” she frowned.

“Odd. I just… Ever since Mr. Clayton mentioned your name, I couldn’t figure out your connection to him. He didn’t invite your father, so apparently they’re not close. I pray to God that he wasn’t also trying to marry you,” she said, rolling her eyes. “Your fiancé isn’t in finance, is he?”

“No, he’s going to be a preacher, just like my father,” she smiled sweetly.

“Of course. Wonderful boy, that Zachary. A good family, too, in the city. You are going to have a very blessed life, Miss Johnston.”

“Thank you.”

“So… why are you here?”

She blinked up at him, the smile still lingering on her lips. “I… I guess I don’t understand your question.”

“I’m asking, what does a slime ball like Jeremiah Clayton want with you?”

“I… I suppose we’ll never know.”

The Sheriff smiled then turned to The Doctor. “Tell me, Dr. Press. Did you study genetics?”

She nodded. “Some, yes.”

“The… the diagrams with the pea plants, that’s all about cross breeding, yes?”

She nodded. “It was about cross breeding pea plants, I believe.”

The Sheriff glanced at the room. “My younger brother was the scientist, not me, but I do remember a bit. Doctor, What can you tell us about recessive genes?”

The Doctor took a breath. “Um… standard theory is that you get genes from your parents. When thinking about something like attached earlobes, that’s going to be a recessive gene. And so one of your parents has to have the recessive gene for you to have it. If neither does, then neither will you. And you have to get it from both parents.” She gave a little laugh. “I suppose that’s a very roundabout way of explaining it. Apologies.”

“No, no. I was following.” The Sheriff turned back to The Debutante. “Now Julie. You’re a remarkably beautiful girl. Blonde hair, blue eyes… striking. Did your mom have blue eyes?”

“Um… no. She had hazel green eyes,” she answered quietly.

“And your father?”

“Brown.”

“Now, Doctor aren’t blue eyes a recessive gene?”

“…yes.”

“So how could they have a blue eyed child?”

“It’s still possible,” The Doctor said quickly. “if say, there are two grandparents who had blue eyes.”

“And Julie, what color eyes did your grandparents have?”

“I… I think my mother’s grandmother had blue eyes,” she replied shakily.

“They were brown.” All eyes swung to land on The Widow. “She watched me when I was young, after my mother had passed.”

“But that’s just not likely,” The Sheriff replied. “Unless…”

“This is very silly,” The Debutante said suddenly. She stood up from the couch. “I don’t know much about science, but I know that it’s time for me to go home. Maid, grab my wrap, please.”

The Sheriff stood up in a flash, blocking both The Maid and The Debutante from exiting the room. “Not so fast, Miss Johnston. This is a murder investigation. You’re not going anywhere.”

The Working Girl got to her feet. “Besides, it’s pouring out there, you’d be soaked.” She reached out to pat The Debutante’s shoulder, the girl shrugged away.

“Don’t touch me, there’s no telling what’s on your hands,” she snarled. The Rancher jumped to her feet.

“Hey!”

“My father’s a preacher, I shouldn’t be around-”

“Are you sure about that?” The Debutante turned to look at The Sheriff.

“What are you talking about?” she whispered.

“Preacher Johnston doesn’t have blue eyes, but Jeremiah Clayton did.”

Her eyes immediately filled with tears. “No…”

“When did you find out?”

She glanced around at the other occupants of the room. “I… When my mother died. On her deathbed she confessed…” She looked back at The Sheriff. “And then it turned out that he knew. And I was so scared that he would tell someone, that Zachary would find out and then he wouldn’t want to marry me because I’m a… a…”

“So you killed him?” The Niece asked.

She shook her head. “No! Of course not. When he invited me here I felt like I had to come or else he would tell people. But I was at the church all day, helping clean the sanctuary. You can ask any of the church women!”

“I know,” The Sheriff said softly. “I know you didn’t. Take a seat.” She sighed, giving them a soft smile. “Which brings us… to me.”

The Rancher stared at her incredulously. “You?”

“I did say we all had a motive.”

“Okay. Then what’s yours?” The Madam asked.

“He was attempting to blackmail me,” she said simply. “He had caught me in a perilous position. Or so he considered.”

“What do you mean?” The Widow asked

She gave The Rancher a significant look, knowing that if anyone would understand forbidden love, it would be the woman in love with The Working Girl. “He caught me with someone I care for greatly. In a position of… undress. And he told me that we were on the same team now, that if I went against him he would tell everyone about my… persuasion.” She cleared her throat. “So you see? I had motive, too. I mean, I didn’t of course. I’m an officer of the law, above all else.”

The Madam stood up, hands on her hips. “Then who is it?” she demanded.

“Easy,” shrugged The Sheriff. “It was The Maid.”

The blonde girl let out an unearthly wail, sinking to the ground.

“I knew it,” The Widow seethed. “I told you it was her-”

“This girl couldn’t hurt a fly!” The Rancher insisted. The Doctor tried to help her to her feet, but she was inconsolable.

“But you said it wasn’t The Maid,” The Madam reminded her suspiciously.

“I didn’t. I just said we all had motive. But she was the one in the house when he was poisoned, she’s the one who face the daily abuse he dished out. It was obviously her.”

“I don’t believe it.” The Working Girl crossed her arms.

“Well then I’ll prove it.” She pulled a satchel of tea leaves from her pocket. “Once we calm The Maid down, I’m sure she can explain what happened.”

“Where did you get that?” The Doctor asked.

The Sheriff glanced down at the tea in her hand. “Upstairs. In Mr. Clayton’s bedroom, they were on the nightstand. I figured they must be the specialty tea you prescribed him.” She crossed to the side table and went about making the tea. “I know that you mixed the herbs for… what was the word you used? Robustness? But I’m sure the chamomile and valerian will help relax The Maid.” She turned to carry it to where The Maid had been helped into a chair.

“Wait!”

The Sheriff turned to The Doctor. “…Yes?”

“You can’t… don’t.” Her eyes were wide, her cheeks paling.

“But why Dr. Press? Unless… it’s not for robustness.”

Her bottom lip began to quiver, and she sank onto the couch. “He… he came to my office yesterday. That was the truth. And he had chest pain, like I said, and male problems… But when I tried to tell him that there’s no cure I could give him, he lost his mind! Screaming, shouting, threatening me. He said that, that he would bring in Dr. Munsten, from down state. That… animal! Who doesn’t know a tumor from his own head! And Mr. Clayton had the audacity to say that Munsten would be a better doctor than me simply because he’s a man and I’m a woman. That he would have a cure for his problem. And… I saw my future disappearing. I saw the lives of my patients here disappearing. And I knew I had to do something. So… I made him the tea. I sent it home, and I figured he would take it a little at a time, and… I didn’t know he would brew half of it at one time! And tonight!”

The Sheriff placed the cup on the side table. “What is it?”

“Arsenic,” she whispered.

The Sheriff sighed. “That’s what I thought.” She turned back to the others. “So… what are we going to do about this?”

“What… do you mean?” The Widow asked.

“Well. Let’s look objectively at what happened. A man is dead. A man that no one liked and who made everyone’s lives worse. I’m the law for this town, so I’m asking again: what are going to do about this?”

“We have a choice?” The Debutante asked breathlessly.

“We do. But we have to make it, and we have to stick to it. So we have to vote: All those in favor of forgetting that this evening happened, mourning the loss of one of our neighbors, and going about our lives with guilt free conscience and a talented doctor, raise your hand now.”

Slowly, hands went up all over the room. The Maid seemed confused about whether or not she was being included in this vote, but raised her hand anyway.

“So we’re in agreeance.” The Sheriff stood up. “Everyone go home. Dr. Press and I will take it from here.” They all stood and left the room, retrieving their items and leaving the house. The Niece helped the still hiccupping Maid to her feet and ushered her back to her quarters.

The Doctor turned to The Sheriff. “When did you realize?”

“As soon as you came into the bedroom. You were shocked, but you shouldn’t have been. You’re a doctor after all. You experience death. But you… You were surprised.”

“I didn’t… I didn’t mean for him to die so soon.”

“I know. I know, Christen,” she whispered.

The Doctor sniffed, wiping away the few tears that had trailed down her cheeks. “Okay. Okay I’ll go get the undertaker.” She turned to leave the room, but then turned back to The Sheriff. “You know… whoever the person is that Mr. Clayton caught you with… she’s lucky.” Then she slipped from the room.

The Sheriff stared after her, wondering if maybe it was sometimes good to be surprised after all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tumblr: @thetheatrelady


	16. The Black Cat

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As soon as Becky saw the cat in the abandoned parking lot, she knew she needed to bring him home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Black Cat  
> Pairing: NA  
> Genre: Fluff(?)  
> Rating: T  
> TW: attempted sexual assault (non graphic)

Becky Saurbrunn was walking across the Harvard parking lot, but her mind was still firmly back in her laboratory. She’d wanted to be a scientist her whole life, wanted to help change the world, but if eight year old her had known how much time she would spend in a tiny room with headache inducing fluorescent lighting, maybe she would have chosen something else. Perhaps she could have been something exciting like a firefighter or a gardener like her grandfather. Maybe she would have-

She saw something move out of the corner of her eye and jumped backwards, startled. She gripped the strap of her bag tightly, the other fumbling to pull her pepper spray out of her pocket. “Hello?” her voice was shaky, unsure, and she rolled her eyes. This was not the time to sound like a useless teen girl in a horror movie. She tried again. “Who’s there? You better not try anything, I’ll kick your ass!”

No one answered, but she could still feel eyes watching her. Against her better judgement, she walked a little closer to the bushes below the flickering streetlight. “Come out, right now!”

The bush gave a violent shake and she raised her pepper spray, preparing to wreck whatever creepy ass dude was trying to pull something, but then dropped her arm, letting out a soft gasp.

In front of her was a black cat. It stared up at her, it’s yellow eyes blinking slowly. It raised a single paw and began to lick at it.

A cat person from birth, Becky immediately crouched down. “Hi there, baby,” she cooed. “Hi handsome.”

The cat cocked it’s head to the side, as if it was asking her a question. She made soft kissing noises, slowly stretching out her hand to it. “It’s okay, I won’t hurt you. It’s all okay, I promise.” Her eyes swept over it’s skinny body, it’s fluffy but dirty fur, its ear that had been half bitten off. “It’s okay, come here.”

She could tell by the way that it didn’t immediately run off that this was no alley stray. This cat had been raised around humans. Her heart ached at the thought that maybe its humans were out there somewhere, missing him and wondering if it was okay.

She scooted closer and the cat let her stroke the top of its little head, nuzzling into her touch. “That’s it. That’s it, buddy, I’m a friend.” She scratched behind his ears.

She was surprised when the cat moved closer, rubbing up against her thigh and hip, trying to climb up into her lap. “Well, look who’s a little love bug,” she laughed. She took a peek between its legs. “Hmm, a little gentleman, I see.”

She slowly reached out, but the cat showed no signs of distress or fear as she gently picked him up, pulling him into her chest. In fact, he immediately began to purr, nuzzling underneath her chin. She stood up and began to walk to her car, casting her eye around for someone who might be looking for an escaped pet. But she was alone, the wind in the nearly deserted parking lot beginning to kick up.

“I think I better take you home,” she crooned. “Yeah, how does that sound? And then maybe we can find your owner.” The cat gave a quiet meow and she cuddled him closer, unlocking her car and getting in. She placed him on the passenger seat and he immediately laid down, long tail twitching back and forth. She sighed happily, then was struck by a thought.

“Fuck. Crystal is going to kill me.”

* * *

Crystal Dunn threw open her front door with a groan. She had spent hours at the library, reading until she was practically cross eyed. She wanted nothing more than to come home, have a beer, and watch trashy reality TV.

“Becks?”

“In the kitchen!”

She slumped in, dropping her backpack to the ground. “I’m dropping out of school.”

Her roommate laughed from the counter where she was dumping leftover Chinese food onto a plate. “It’s a little late for that.”

“Too bad. I’m dropping out. I don’t want to be a lawyer anymore.” Becky and Crystal had met their freshman year of undergrad in a required orientation class. They had become fast friends, and when they had both been accepted into Harvard for their post graduate studies, it seemed like fate that they would move to Cambridge and live together.

“But if you don’t become a lawyer then you can’t eventually be on the Supreme Court,” Becky reminded her.

Crystal grabbed a beer from the fridge and walked into the living room, flopping down on the couch. “That’s true. But maybe that’s not my lot in life, you know? Maybe I’ll become a weather girl.”

“I think you would have to do more schooling for that,” Becky called from the kitchen.

Crystal groaned. “Forget it. I’ll marry rich. You’ll be my sugar mama, right?”

Becky laughed. “Sure, as soon as we start paying scientists the big bucks.”

Crystal opened her mouth to respond, but instead let out a little yelp as an all black cat jumped into her lap. “Becky?”

She leaned out into the living room, her face quickly taking on a sheepish look. “Oh yeah, about that…”

“Becky,” Crystal repeated slowly, trying desperately to avoid the cat now intent on getting to know her.

“It’s not my fault! He was in the parking lot, all alone! He needed someone to take care of him.”

Crystal was trying to squirm out from under the cat. “No.”

“Look at how friendly he is! He obviously has a family somewhere who is missing him-“

“Then take him to them!”

“I will! I just have to find them first.” Becky gave her a bright smile. “He’ll just be here for a few days.”

Crystal prodded the cat in the side with a single finger, nudging him off of her. “You know I don’t get along with cats.”

“Oh but Crys, just look at him! He’s such a sweetheart!” She scooped him up, burying her face in his fur. “Aren’t you baby?”

Crystal gave her a look. “Don’t put your face in- it could have rabies!”

Becky rolled her eyes. “He does _not_ have rabies.”

“Are you sure?!”

“Well he’s not foaming at the mouth or aggressive in any way.” She kissed the top of his head. “Plus, people are always so worried about rabies, when what you should actually be worried about is the way that global warming is affecting permafrost in the tundra. There’s been an anthrax outbreak among Siberian reindeer and they’re hypothesizing that-”

“No, no, no, don’t freak me out with all of your scientific knowledge.” Crystal stood up from the couch. “I’m serious, Becky.’

She groaned. “I know. I promise, tomorrow I’m going to take him to he vet and see if he’s microchipped. And if not then I’ll put up posters.”

“And if you can’t find the owner?”

Becky sighed. “Then I’ll find him a good home.” Crystal gave her a look. “A home that’s not our home.”

* * *

The cat didn’t have a microchip, but the vet was able to tell Becky that he was very well cared for. He was skinny, but his only apparent injury was whatever bit off his ear and that had been healed for many years. Becky made up posters and posted in the Harvard student pages, but part of her was truly sad at the thought of him leaving. She knew that if Crystal would just give him a chance that she would love him, too.

One night as they were taking a well deserved break from studying to watch The Bachelorette, Crystal was scrolling through her phone. “I don’t think Hozier is a man.”

Becky pushed her glasses up her nose. “Sorry?”

She showed Becky the picture on her screen. “He just… he’s a fey prince or something. Or he’s been possessed by the spirit of a lesbian bog witch. That’s the only way to get his weird ass music.”

“I like his music,” Becky replied. “It makes me feel… respected.”

Crystal rolled her eyes. “Sure. But there’s something just… supernatural about him.” The cat hopped up onto the coffee table, looking at them. “You too!”

Becky laughed. “There’s nothing supernatural about the cat.”

Crystal stared at him suspiciously. “Are you sure? What if he’s like… a 17th century warlock in his familiar form?”

Becky laughed. “Sure, Crys. That’s a perfectly reasonable assumption.”

“I’m just saying!”

Becky hummed. “He does have a vaguely Hozier-eque quality about him though. Maybe that can be his name, Hozier.” She caught Crystal’s look and raised her hands innocently. “Until we find him a forever home!”

Crystal rolled her eyes, but then examined the cat again. “Hm. Hozier the kitty cat.” He meowed, blinking his big yellow eyes. “I think he likes it.”

“Of course he does,” Becky cooed, scooping him up. “He loves it.”

* * *

One of Crystal’s classmates had been asking her out since the beginning of the semester, and she finally gave in. It wasn’t that he was unattractive. Tall, with straight white teeth and a nice face. He was a bit of a know it all, but Crystal supposed that you’d be hard pressed to find a student at Harvard Law that wasn’t a know it all. They’d gone out to dinner and then he drove her back home. Becky was at some mixer for the Biology department, so Crystal invited him in for a drink. They sat on the couch and clinked their glasses together, toasting the evening.

He began to talk and as he neared the twenty minute mark, Crystal’s heart sank. He was… boring. Sure he was nice but that wasn’t enough. She forced herself to keep smiling, nodding along.

“Oh man, it’s kind of late, huh?” she asked when he paused to take a drink.

“Oh yeah, it is.”

She smiled politely, hoping he would get the hint. Instead, he leaned in, kissing her. “I’ve had a really nice time tonight,” he whispered, then kissed her again. She kissed him back for a moment, but then his hand was on her knee , sliding upwards, and she pulled back.

“It’s late,” she repeated.

Disappointment colored his face but he nodded, getting to his feet. “Alright. Well maybe next time we could go to Shay’s they have this great cover band that plays on…” he trailed off, glancing down at his hands then back at her. “There’s not going to be a next time, is there?”

She sighed, giving him a sad smile. “I don’t think so.”

He nodded, his mouth twisting. “Right. Well…” He gestured towards the door and she walked him out, closing the door behind him. She turned to see Hozier sitting on the back of the couch.

“And then there were two,” she deadpanned. He meowed.

She began to walk to the kitchen when there was a knock on the door. She turned and looked out the peephole, seeing her date. She opened the door, confused.

Before she could say anything she was being shoved backwards. She didn’t even register him shutting the door , she was too busy clutching at where her head had smacked into the floor as she fell. But then he was on top of her, his six-foot frame easily able to subdue her, one hand holding her hands, the other around her throat.

“How dare you turn me down?” he snarled. “I should be the one turning you down!”

She twisted her body, trying to buck him off of her. “Get off of me!”

“This date’s not done till I say it is.” The hand around her throat began to force it’s way up her dress.

Suddenly, there was an earsplitting hiss, and he sat up, yelling and reaching for the back of his neck. Crystal looked on in shock for a moment as he tried to remove the cat from where it had embedded his claws deep into his skin. She snapped out of her daze and brought her knee up as hard as she could, hitting him in the balls. His face crumbled and he tumbled to the side, still trying to untangle himself from Hozier. She grabbed the lamp from the end table and quickly hit him over the head with it, sending him slumping to the ground.

With shaking hands she retrieved her phone from her purse and dialed 911, asking them to send a police car right away.

By the time Becky arrived home an hour later, several cop cars were parked outside of her and Crystal’s house, along with an ambulance. She dashed inside to find her roommate at the dining room table, Hozier in her lap.

“What the hell?” she gasped, pulling her into a hug.

“My date! He… he came back, and he knocked me down, he…” she trailed off and the cop talking to her turned to Becky.

“Your roommate was attacked, but thanks to her quick actions and your cat, she was able to incapacitate him before anything awful happened. That being said, she does have a concussion, you’re going to want to watch her over the next few days.”

“Yeah, yeah of course.”

The cop nodded at Crystal. “We’ll be out of your hair in just a bit.”

Becky pulled out the chair next to her. “I can’t believe this.”

“I know. I know, neither can I.”

“And Hozier…?”

Crystal cuddled him closer, taking comfort in his loud purr. “He’s ours. He’s not going anywhere.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tumblr: @thetheatrelady


	17. The Surprise

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It was just an invite to a costume party. Who could have predicted it would up like this?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Surprise  
> Pairing: Preath  
> Genre: Romance  
> Rating: K+  
> TW: none

“Woah…” Sonny gave a low whistle. “Bit fancy for just a Halloween party, huh?”

Lindsey nodded. “And I didn’t even know that Tobin and Chris even liked Halloween that much.”

It truly was a beautiful space. Tall ceilings, exposed bricks and beams. The room was softly lit with strings of lights, giving everything a magical haze.

“I’m hungry. Let’s grab some food.” Sonny grabbed her hand and hauled her to the other side of the room, both of them greeting friends and teammates along the way. She poured them both cups of punch as Lindsey kept examining the space.

“It’s also kind of set up strangely. Why are all the chairs facing one direction? Are we going to watch a horror movie or something?”

She didn’t miss Sonny’s shudder. “I hope not.” She pushed a plate of appetizers into her hand. “Look, there’s Kel and her girlfriend, let’s go say hi.”

Across the room, Ali was also getting suspicious. “What are you doing here?” she asked her brother.

He gave her a mock offended look. “What? You’re the only one allowed to be friends with all the cool, hot lesbians?”

“No, I just mean… and why are you dressed as a priest?”

He winked at her. “I’m a preacher, that’s much hotter. But let’s talk about you, Miss Thang! Love, love, love the Beetlejuice costume!”

Ashlyn hugged Ali from behind, grinning at her brother in law. “Well technically, I’m Beetlejuice, she’s Lydia.”

“Whatever, you guys look great. Wait, what time is it?”

Ashlyn checked her watch. “Almost seven, why?”

“Oh shit, time really does fly when you’re hot as fuck, huh?” Both women laughed as he darted away, making his way to the microphone at the front of the room.

“Everyone? Everyone if I could have your attention!” The room quieted down and he smiled. “Tobin and Christen are just putting the finishing touches on some party stuff, so they asked if you would all be so kind as to go ahead and take a seat.”

Everyone did, looking around in confusion. Why did they all need to sit down? What kind of party was this? Had they all been somehow tricked into attending a re-inc fundraiser disguised as a costume party?

Once in their seats, everyone continued to talk in low whispers, everyone trying to figure out what was happening. Alex, dressed as Olive Oyl, bounced Charlie on her knee, smoothing her green tutu. “What are they doing?” she asked Serv.

He adjusted his Popeye hat. “I have no clue.”

“Well if they don’t hurry up, I’m going to have to take our little spinach sprout to the bathroom for a diaper change. Isn’t that right, honey?” Charlie babbled on, unconcerned with events around her.

Suddenly the lights dimmed a little more and the typical Halloween party soundtrack faded out and a slow melody began. Kyle stood up from his chair in the front row and stood in front of everyone.

A door opened at the back of the space and everyone turned, gasps resounding through the space as everyone realized just what they had been invited to.

Tobin was walking beside her dad, dressed in an impeccable white suit. She was grinning nervously, especially as more and more people caught on.

_I've been watching your world from afar_ _  
I've been trying to be where you are  
And I've been secretly falling apart  
Unseen  
To me, you're strange and you're beautiful  
You'd be so perfect with me_

When Tobin reached Kyle, her dad kissed her on the cheek and sat down. Next came little Jeff, Cindy on his arm. He escorted her down the aisle, then took his place to Tobin’s left.

Then came Perry.

Then Katie.

Then Channing,

Then Tyler.

They were all holding plastic orange pumpkins filled with flowers in front of them, dressed in long black dresses.

_I'll put a spell on you_ _  
You fall asleep  
When I put a spell on you  
And when I wake you I'll be the first thing you see  
And you'll realize that you love me_

Kyle cleared his throat. “Would you please stand?”

By the time Christen stepped through the doorway in her dress, Cody on her arm, the room was suspended in a dazzled silence. She seemed to float down the aisle, her eyes never leaving Tobin. Cody lifted her veil and kissed her cheek, then hugged Tobin tightly. He sat beside Cindy and Big Jeff, wiping at his eyes. Christen passed her bouquet to Tyler then turned back to Tobin, joining hands with her.

“You may be seated.” Kyle grinned out at the crowd as they did. “Well, I bet you weren’t expecting this tonight, were you?!” Everyone laughed. “I have to admit, when Tobin and Christen told me about their plan, I was gobsmacked. I mean who wants wedding pictures full of people dressed as Bugs Bunny?” Another laugh. “But the more I thought about it, the more it made sense. I don’t know if I’ve ever met a pair of people who were so low key about such a tremendous thing like love. I mean, they got engaged and didn’t even think to announce it to anyone! Who does that?!”

He smiled. “The answer of course, is these two do that. These two, who have lived their lives in the public eye, having to share every bit of triumph and heartache.”

“There’s an old Johnny Cash quote. He was asked about his idea of paradise. He responded: This morning, with her, having coffee. And isn’t that all any of us can ask for? To find someone who wants nothing more than to be in our company, quietly living and loving, until the end of time?”

He cleared his throat. “According to the internet, which is obviously where I was ordained, this is the part where I’m supposed to lecture you both on the importance of marriage, where I’m supposed to impress upon you the seriousness of what you’re undertaking, but I’m not going to do that. Because I know that you know what you’re doing. I mean, you may have not dated as long as _some_ people,” he joked, shooting a playful look at his sister, “But it’s been quite the road for you two. And if anyone here can truly comprehend the vows you’re about to make, can understand the words for better or for worse, in sickness and in health, till death do us part… it’s the two beautiful women in front of me.”

He took a deep breath. “Tobin, please look into Christen’s eyes and repeat after me: I, Tobin, take thee, Christen to be my wedded wife, to laugh with you in joy, to grieve with you in sorrow, to grow with you in love, as long as we both shall live.” She quietly repeated his words, her voice hoarse with emotion.

“Christen, please look into Tobin’s eyes and repeat after me: I, Christen, take thee, Tobin to be my wedded wife, to laugh with you in joy, to grieve with you in sorrow, to grow with you in love, as long as we both shall live.” She did, her hands squeezing Tobin’s.

“May I have the rings?” Jeff passed them over. “These rings represent your union, an unbroken circle of love, never ending, Tobin, placing the ring on Christen’s finger, repeat after me: With this ring, I give you my promise, to honor you, to be faithful to you, and to share my love and life with you, in all ways, forever.” He repeated the same with Christen.

He gave a wide smile. “With the power vested in me, I know pronounce you wife, and wife.” He looked back and forth between the two. “Well? You better kiss your bride!”

Everyone laughed and then began to cheer and clap as Tobin wrapped her arms around Christen’s waist and dipped her low, giving her one hell of a kiss.

“It is my pleasure to present, Mrs. And Mrs. Heath-Press!”

* * *

Kelley didn’t get a chance to get to the happy couple for nearly twenty minutes. As soon as she did, however, she punched Tobin squarely in the arm.

“Ow!”

“Dude!”

“Kelley!” Christen laughed.

“Are you serious? You two! I can’t! I mean, I’m dressed as freaking Leonardo DiCaprio, I just…” She groaned. “God I can’t even be mad because I should have expected as much. And you both look so beautiful, and it was beautiful ceremony, but… still, you assholes!”

Christen wrapped her best college friend in a tight hug. “We’re so glad you’re here, Kel. Sorry for the cloak and dagger.”

“Do you know that I was *this* close to not coming? Kam was having problems getting off work and-”

“But you did come,” Christen reminded her. “And you said so yourself, it was a beautiful ceremony!”

“I’m just saying, you could have warned a bitch,” Kelley grumbled.

Pinoe walked up, throwing an arm around Kelley’s shoulders. “Eh, but where’s the fun in that?” She raised her flute of champagne. “A hell of a Halloween party! No one is ever going to top this.”

“They better not,” Tobin warned jokingly.

Pinoe leaned in, kissing them both on the cheek. “Seriously though. Congratulations.”

“Thanks,” Tobin blushed.

“Where’s Sue?” Christen asked.

Pinoe laughed. “Well, she’s outside on the phone with the Denver Nuggets. She’d been planning to dip out early to go scouting for them but um, that’s obviously not going to happen now!”

“So what do you think, are you guys next?” Christen asked, resting her head on Tobin’s shoulder.

Pinoe gave an exaggerated eye roll. “Oh god…”

“What, you don’t wanna put a ring on it?” Tobin teased.

“What about this one?” Pinoe asked, pointing at Kelley. “Why not bug her for once?”

Kelley raised her hands as if to protest her innocence. “Listen, when me and Kam do a naked photo shoot together, then people can start demanding we get married.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Pinoe grumbled.

Sue walked up behind them. “Congratulations!”

They thanked her and accepted her hugs. “Dig the costume!” Tobin said.

“Oh, thanks,” Sue laughed. “I figured I could get away with wearing a TunesSquad tank to a basketball game as long as I took off the bunny ears.”

“I mean Lola Bunny is an icon,” Kelley said.

“Attention, attention,” the DJ said into the mic. “If we could have the happy couple on the dance floor for their first dance as a married couple!” Everyone cheered and the newlyweds drained their drinks, making their way into the middle of the room. Tobin offered Christen her hand then pulled her close.

The piano intro began and two began to sway back and forth. They had eyes for no one else but each other.

_Are those fingers in my hair?_

_That sly come hither stare_

_Strips my conscience bare_

_It's witchcraft_

_And I've got no defense for it_

_That heat is too intense for it_

_What good would common sense for it do?_

Tobin spun Christen then pulled her back in. “This has been extraordinary.” She murmured in her new wife’s ear.

“I know,” Christen said softly back. “Beautiful, and funny, and surprising, and touching, and… and perfect. But any world in which I marry you is perfect.”

“I love you, Chris. Forever. Until the end of time.”

“Until the end of time,” Christen agreed. She gave Tobin a slow, passionate kiss, earning a few whoops and whistles, then laid her head on Tobin’s shoulder. As they danced she caught sight of her dad on the edge of the dance floor. He smiled and lifted a glass, and she couldn’t help her small sad sigh.

“I know baby. I wish that she was here.”

Christen lifted her head so that she could look into Tobin’s eyes. “She is. She’s here,” she pressed their clasped hands against her chest, “and here.” She pressed their hands against Tobin’s. “There was never any question. She’s here and she’s so, so happy, because I found someone who loves me so wonderfully and tenderly, and who makes me as happy as my dad made her.”

Tobin smiled, sniffing back tears. “Always. I promise.”

Christen gave her another kiss. “Forever.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tumblr: @thetheatrelady


	18. The Cloaked Truth

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Cloaked Truth  
> Pairing: Naeherbrunn (?) (Alyssa/Becky lol)  
> Genre: Horror  
> Rating: M  
> TW: quick mentions of death

Some people liked dating. They made profiles on dating apps and gave their numbers out to strangers in coffee shops, they even went on dating shows, making fools of themselves on national TV in hopes of finding the one.

Alyssa Naeher did not like dating.

Well, she didn’t dislike dating. Having a partner, going out to dinner, having someone to cuddle up and watch Netflix with at night? That sounded amazing. Perfect, even.

But finding someone to be your partner? Torture.

She’d made the mistake of saying as much to Julie one day after a boxing class and her friend had gasped.

“No don’t look at it like that! Dating is… god it’s a whirlwind! Trying to figure out how you fit together with someone, getting to know each other. Plus the thrill of knowing that they like you!”

Alyssa sighed and smiled at her. “Julie? You’re a former Miss Teen Arizona. I’m a research librarian with social anxiety. Our experiences are not the same.”

This earned her a disapproving look. “Alyssa the reason you can’t find someone is because you sell yourself short!”

She shut her locker. “No, the reason I can’t find someone is because the idea of talking to strangers is mortifying.”

“Lys, you’re a catch! You’re smart and kind and strong and cute, and any girl would be lucky to date you.”

She groaned, resting her head against the cool metal, regretting that she brought this up. “Forget it. Just… forget it, Jules.”

“Nope! No can do.” She lifted her head to watch Julie smoothing her hand over her immaculate ponytail, somehow still looking like a knock out after sixty minutes of HIIT. “There’s someone out there for you, but you’re never going to find them unless you look.”

“I’m fine, Julie. I mean, I’m so busy at work, I don’t have time-”

She turned around and arched a perfect eyebrow. “Alyssa. Going on a few dates won’t kill you. I promise.”

She groaned, picking up her bag. “But… how am I even supposed to find someone?”

“Hinge?” Julie suggested as they walked out of the locker room.

Alyssa snorted. “No way. Amanda says I look constipated in pictures.”

Julie rolled her eyes. “Fine. Then that means that you’re going to have to meet someone the old fashioned way.”

“By having my parents arrange a match with someone I’ve never met?”

“Worse,” she smirked. “By going out to a bar.”

* * *

Alyssa sighed, fiddling with the pint of beer in front of her. This was a mistake. How had she let Julie convince her this would lead to anything but disaster? She resisted the urge to lay her head on the bar in front of her.

“Hi.” She turned to see a tall brunette next to her, giving her a cheerful smile.

“…hi,” she softly replied.

“I’m Tierna.”

“Hi,” she repeated. “Um, Alyssa.” They shook hands.

“Do you come here a lot?”

Alyssa gazed around at the lesbian bar, the rainbow flag hanging from the ceiling and the Ani DiFranco painting on the wall. “Uh, no. Never.”

“I didn’t think so. I would remember you,” she smiled.

Alyssa smiled, unsure of what to say.

“Do you go to the university?” Tierna asked.

“No,” Alyssa laughed. “I work there.”

“Oh wow! Professor?”

“Librarian.”

“That’s really cool!”

Alyssa let her eyes travel over Tierna’s freckled face, her loose stance at odds with her cheerful disposition. She smiled sadly. “Look, are you even old enough to be in here?”

Tierna’s reddening cheeks answered her question. “I’ll be twenty one in September?”

“I’m flattered, but… you’re a baby. No offense.”

The girl shrugged. “No worries.” She gave her one last smile then rejoined her friends across the bar.

Alyssa turned back to her beer, telling herself that as soon as she finished it, she could go home and tell Julie that she tried but it just wasn’t for her.

“These young girls get bolder and bolder every year.” She turned to see a woman with blonde hair sitting next to her.

“I was never like that.”

The woman laughed. “Well of course not. I mean, back in my day, being gay was all about the longing, the yearning glances across crowded rooms. The love that dare not speak its name.”

“Lord Alfred Douglas,” Alyssa said, her tone impressed.

“But of course,” the woman smiled.

“Good choice.”

“Thank you.” She sighed. “You young girls don’t know how good you’ve got it.”

Something strangely like confidence warmed Alyssa’s chest. “Us young girls? You can’t be over, what, thirty? Maybe thirty five?”

She gave soft laugh. “I’m much older than I look.” She turned to face Alyssa head on. “I’m Rebecca, by the way.”

“Rebecca,” Alyssa repeated without thinking.

She smirked. “My friends call me Becky.” She leaned in slightly. “You can call me Becky if you want.”

Alyssa found herself blushing, and was momentarily uncomfortable by how this woman had gotten under her skin. “I’m Alyssa.”

“Alyssa. Russian variation of Alice, or a form of the Old Germanic name Adelheid. It means of a noble type.”

Now the warmth was no longer in her chest, but much, much lower. This woman was smart, that was obvious, and that sent a thrill straight between Alyssa’s legs, even as she cursed herself for being so attracted to intelligence. “Literature department?”

Becky shook her head, the movement making her long, blonde hair gleam in the Christmas lights strung up around the bar. “Just stopping through on my way back home.”

“Oh? Where’s home?”

Becky took a drink of the martini in front of her. “I was born in Germany, but I’ve lived a little bit of everywhere. Right now I’m trying to prepare for a trip back to Europe to meet up with family.”

“Prepare?”

Becky hummed. “Gathering strength for the journey.”

Alyssa sighed. “I get that. Family can be… draining.”

This earned her a laugh. “Mine is more draining than most.”

“So what do you do for a living?”

“I’m a historian.”

“What’s your specialty?”

“Well, ancient Germany, but I’m pretty well versed in most of Europe.”

“Oh wow! When I was getting my masters I got a chance to look at some Old High German texts, they were incredible.”

Becky seemed to match her enthusiasm. “Have you ever read the Hildebrandslied?!” The title rolled off her tongue in perfectly accented German.

“Yes!” Alyssa realized that she was basically fangirling over Germanic epic poetry in front of what was maybe the hottest woman she’d ever seen, and forced herself to pull back. “In school.” She took a long drink of her beer.

“It’s an interesting text,” Becky said. “Two warriors meeting on a battlefield. The father recognizing the son and trying to make peace. The son thinking it’s all a ruse.”

“From a modern perspective, it’s all a little silly.”

“What do you mean?”

Alyssa shrugged. “Well, it all could have been avoided if Hildebrand would have just told his son who he was.”

“What if he didn’t believe him?”

“So it’s better to not even try?”

Becky smiled and leaned in slightly. “I think it’s a comment on humanity. That at some point we all meet with fate and must either kill or be killed.”

“Either way, destroying the life you’ve been living.”

Becky finished her drink, pushing the glass towards the bartender with a tiny shake of her head. “I find you fascinating, Alyssa.”

She choked on her beer. “Me? No,” she deflected.

“Yes, you.”

“I’m just… here.”

Becky smiled. “Yes. You’re here. Which must make this my lucky day.” She tilted her head towards Alyssa’s nearly empty glass. “Are you getting another? Or can I maybe walk you home?”

* * *

The night air was cold, much colder than Alyssa was anticipating, and she burrowed into her jacket, fighting the shivers.

“Not used to the cold?”

Alyssa laughed. “I should be, I mean I’m from Connecticut. But the wind coming off of the lake…” She shivered again. “I don’t think I’ll ever get used to it.” She looked over at the shorter woman. “Are you not cold?”

Becky shrugged. “It’s not so bad.” She took a deep breath and extended her arms. “I like walking at night. I guess I’m just weird that way.” She dropped her arms and Alyssa reached out, taking her hand before she could talk herself out of it. Becky gave her a knowing smirk, but didn’t say anything,

“So you said your family is a lot to handle?”

She sighed. “Yeah. You could say that.”

“I’m sorry, I don’t mean to pry,” Alyssa quickly stammered.

“No, it’s fine! We just… We all have different ideas on the meaning of life. Does that make sense? So when we’re all in one place it’s just bickering and side eyes and drama.” She rolled her eyes. “What about you?”

“Uh… fairly normal family, I guess. Parents, little sister. I live with my twin sister Amanda.” She suddenly jerked her head up. “She, she isn’t home tonight. She’s staying over at her boyfriend’s house. Not that, that I’m expecting anything-”

Becky squeezed her hand. “Relax.”

Alyssa blushed furiously and came to a stop, pointing awkwardly at the door. “Um… this is me.” She started to walk up to it, fumbling for her keys, then suddenly realized that Becky hadn’t followed. “What?”

“Aren’t you going to invite me in?”

Alyssa chuckled nervously. “Wasn’t it kind of implied?”

Becky smiled, taking a few steps closer. “I guess I’m just old fashioned.”

Alyssa unlocked the door and pushed it open, turning back to the older woman. “Please, come in.”

She walked into the kitchen, intending to look in the fridge and see if Amanda had a bottle of wine for her to offer up, but when she turned around Becky was looking at her in a way that suggested that alcohol was not what she was thirsting for. Her lips found Alyssa’s and the wine was quickly abandoned.

Becky’s body was… amazing. A perfect combination of soft and hard, her skin seemed to almost glow in the moonlight. Alyssa made herself take her time, working Becky up again and again, desperate to remember every moment in case it never happened again. And when it came time for Becky to reciprocate…

Well.

Alyssa definitely wouldn’t be forgetting her any time soon.

She fell asleep almost immediately after, her body spent and Becky warm against her chest. When she awoke several hours later, her bed was cold and empty.

She got up, pulling on an old sweatshirt. She walked out of her room to find Becky standing at her living room window, staring out.

“Becks?” she asked through a yawn.

The woman sighed unhappily. “Go back to sleep, Alyssa.”

She turned on the floor lamp. “What’s wrong? Did I… Are you thinking about your family?” She didn’t know what prompted her half asleep brain to ask such an odd question.

Becky glanced over her shoulder. “A little, I guess.”

Alyssa sat on the couch. “Families can be stressful, especially when you… when you’re not what they expected.”

Becky turned, silhouetted in the moonlight. “You could never be a disappointment, Alyssa.”

The whispered statement made her chest ache, and Alyssa blinked back tears. “Neither could you.”

This earned a laugh. “My family isn’t… normal. I’m adopted, for one. My birth family… died.”

“I’m so sorry.”

She shook her head. “It’s okay. That was a long time ago.” She sighed. “Anyway, they want me to come home. To be normal.” She chuckled darkly. “As if I’ve ever been normal.”

“Normal is overrated.”

Becky walked over, laying her hand against Alyssa’s cheek. “You’re sweet,” she murmured.

“Come back to bed.”

“I, I should go. I don’t want you to get hurt.”

“You can’t go, it’s like three in the morning,” Alyssa argued. “And you won’t hurt me.”

“You don’t know…”

Alyssa shrugged. “I know enough.”

Becky stared at her for a moment. “Do you know what a nachzehrer is?”

Alyssa’s brain struggled to kick into high gear. “Uh… granted I’m not super up to date on Germanic folklore, but… it’s a vampire right? Or similar to it?”

She nodded. “Yeah. They differ from other vampires because they’re not created through biting or scratching, but rather happen after a suicide or a tragic accident, sometimes the first person to die in a pandemic.”

“They… they eat themselves, right?”

She lifted a shoulder. “According to legend. They eat themselves and then their family and other village members.”

“So… what about it?”

Becky sighed, her face pinched. “I never should have talked to you in the bar. I should have found one of the young ones, the unthinking ones. “

Alyssa covered Becky’s hand with her own, keeping her in place. “No. I’m so glad you did.”

“You don’t understand,” she exclaimed, her voice nearly hoarse. “I… I am so hungry.”

“Then I’ll make you something,” Alyssa replied. “We can order a pizza, or,” her cheeks warmed but she forced herself to follow through on the thought, “Or if you’re hungry for something else we can go back to bed.” She leaned forward pressing her lips to Becky’s hipbone. “I have some… stuff we can use.”

Becky groaned, her head falling back. “Alyssa. Alyssa you’re not listening to me. Damn it, why does this have to be so hard?”

Alyssa pulled back. “I’m trying. What do you want?”

Becky straddled her lap, taking her face in her hands and pressing their foreheads together. “You. I want you.”

“I’m right here,” Alyssa whispered.

“If I were different… God, if I were someone else, if this was a different time, I would take your hand and never look back. I would.”

“Hey.” Alyssa wrapped her hands around Becky’s hips. “Nothing is set in stone. It’s… it’s just like in the Hildebrandslied. If you resign yourself to what must happen, then you don’t give yourself a choice.”

“You think that humanity has been stuck in the age old dilemma of to be or not to be, to kill or to be killed when there was really a third option?”

Alyssa nodded. “Yes. To love.”

Becky gave a half sob, half laugh. “Oh Alyssa. Sweet Alyssa. Where did you come from?” She kissed her lips, then her jaw, then further down, her lips tremulously pressing to her pulse point. “To love,” she whispered.

Alyssa barely nodded, her heart beating wildly in her chest for some unknown reason. “To love.”

Becky lifted her head, looking deep in Alyssa’s eyes. “You’re pretty one of a kind, y’know.”

Alyssa gave a small smile. “Other people might say abnormal.”

Becky smothered a laugh then gave her another kiss. “Take me to bed, Alyssa. Help me quench my thirst.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tumblr: @thetheatrelady


	19. The Auntie

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sometimes when you're feeling under the weather, you have to call in reinforcements.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Auntie  
> Pairing: Preath  
> Genre: Fluff  
> Rating: K+  
> TW: vomiting
> 
> For Heath17_KO5, with love

“Momma, is it almost time to go?” Hadley screeched from the living room.

“No,” Tobin laughed from the kitchen. “Not even close, we still have…” she checked the clock on the microwave, “four hours.”

“Uggghhhhh.” She heard the thump of her tiny body flopping back against the couch cushions. She used to think people exaggerated how a child could imitate a parent, but that was before Hadley had come out as an exact replica of one Mrs. Christen Press-Heath. She was smart and sweet but also impatient and anxious and (although she would never say as much to her wife) bossy in a way that was all too familiar.

Tobin grabbed a washcloth and wiped up the counter before feeling a tiny body attaching itself to her leg. She glanced down to see big brown eyes staring up at her from above a pacifier.

“Hey there, buddy.” She scooped him up, letting him cuddle into her chest as she kept trying to tidy up the kitchen.

Powell wound one hand into Tobin’s hair and gave a hard yank.

Well… perhaps their son took more after Tobin than she was really willing to admit.

“Are you excited for tonight, little man?” she asked, dropping the cloth to disentangle her hair from his sticky little hand.

He mumbled something around the pacifier and she gently popped it out.

“What was that?”

“Trick treat!” he smiled.

“That’s right! We’re going to go out and you’re going to look so cute in your costume, and we’re going to get soooo much candy.”

His smile drooped suddenly. “Mommy?” he said, his lower lip making a prominent appearance.

She kissed his forehead, smoothing back his brown hair. “No, she can’t come tonight, remember?”

“Mommy,” he repeated.

She sighed and walked towards the master bedroom door. “We’ll take a little peek in, okay?” She turned the door handle and stuck her head in.

“Stop!” Christen said sharply. Or at least, it was probably supposed to sound sharp. As it was, she was so stopped up that it sounded more like “Stob,” her voice scratchy and painful.

Tobin grimaced. “We’re just checking in on you.”

“Don’t come in here,” Christen whined, leaning back into her pillows in a way that reminded Tobin of a certain five year old in the living room. “I’m disgusting.”

“You’re beautiful,” Tobin corrected.

“I’m miserable.” She grabbed a tissue from the bedside table and attempted to blow her stopped up nose. “My head is killing me.”

Tobin took half a step further in. “Well you need to eat something before you take any more medicine.”

“I can’t, my throat is too swollen to swallow.”

“Well how about I make you some soup then?”

“That would be,” she broke off in a huge coughing fit, “nice,” she finished.

“Mommy?” Powell asked from Tobin’s arms.

“Hi honey,” Christen sighed. He stretched out his arms but Tobin shook her head, holding him tighter.

“Sorry buddy, but Mommy has the flu so she has to stay in bed and we can’t hug her for a while.” She turned back to Christen. “Do you want chicken noodle or tomato?”

“Chicken noodle,” Christen sighed, pulling the blankets up higher. “Thank you.”

“Of course, baby.” Tobin pulled the door shut and walked into the living room, plopping Powell down next to Hadley. “Can you sit here with Sister while I make Mommy food?” His eyes were immediately riveted to the TV, and Tobin walked into the kitchen, stopping along the way to check the thermostat.

Weird. It said that it was seventy degrees but Tobin still felt cold somehow. She bumped it up a few degrees and went about microwaving Christen’s soup.

Once it was prepped and on a tray, Tobin eased back into their bedroom, shutting the door behind her to keep Powell from wandering in.

“You’re my hero,” Christen deadpanned.

Tobin grinned. “Just call me your knight in shining armor.” She arranged the tray on Christen’s lap then leaned forward, pressing her lips to Christen’s forehead.

“Toby, the germs!”

“Just checking your temperature.”

“You could use the thermometer,” Christen grumbled.

“Don’t need to,” Tobin sighed. “Your fever’s back.”

“I’m never going to get better.”

“Don’t say that, you just-” Tobin suddenly caught the smell of Christen’s favorite cocoa butter lotion, the one that usually made her salivate. For some reason today it went right to her stomach, making it lurch unpleasantly.

“Tobs?”

“I don’t…” she caught another whiff and bolted for their bathroom, barely getting the toilet lid up before losing her lunch. She didn’t even know how long she was on her knees, retching violently, but when she sat back she felt her wife’s legs behind her. She felt something cold roll across her forehead and then there was a beep.

“Just like I thought,” Christen sighed. “101.2.”

“No…”

“Tobs you’re sick.”

She flushed the toilet and struggled to her feet, suddenly aware of the way her body was aching. “No. I can’t be.”

“You are.”

“But the kids-”

“We… we’ll figure something out.”

Tobin retrieved Christen’s phone from the bedside table and began scrolling through their contacts. Both of their families are always more than willing to help out, but none of them would be able to make it all the way to Portland on such short notice. She messaged into both of their families’ group chats, asking if anyone is free to come up and stay with the kids for the next few days, then refocused on the night ahead. She sighed and hit call, hoping against hope that their friends loved them.

“Sup?”

She cleared her throat. “Linds, hey, what are you up to?”

“Just got out of the shower, why?”

“Well um-” Another wave of nausea hit her and she barely managed to shove the phone at Christen before dashing back to the bathroom.

“Hello?” Lindsey asked, confused.

“Hi, sorry,” Christen replied, trying to get enough air through her stuffed up nose that she could be understood. “Do you have plans for tonight?”

Lindsey gave an annoyed sigh. “Well I was supposed to be going out with Russell but, of course, he bailed at the last minute.”

“Oh good,” Christen breathed, then her foggy mind caught up to her mouth. “I mean, not good that he bailed. That sucks, and I’m sorry, but… but we have a favor to ask.”

“What’s up?”

“Tobin caught my flu. We’re both a wreck and while I’m sure my Dad or one of my sisters could drive up, the kids are supposed to go trick or treating tonight. And I know that’s probably the opposite of what you had in mind for tonight, but-”

“Yeah. I’ll be right over.”

Relief washed through Christen. “Really?”

“Of course, I love spending time with munchkins. I’ll have to bring Fergie though, is that okay?”

“Yeah! Yeah that’s fine. You’re the best, Linds. Truly.”

Lindsey chuckled into the phone. “Well they don’t call me the Great Horan for nothing. I’ll see you in twenty.”

“Great, see you then.” She hung up and hauled her aching body back into the bathroom, where Tobin was now slumped against the cabinets. “Linds is coming.”

“Oh thank God.”

“Let’s get you out of those jeans.”

Tobin gave her a look. “For the first time in our marriage I think I’m going to have to turn down sexy time.”

Christen barely had the energy to roll her eyes. “And then get you into sweats.”

“Oh. Dope.”

X

Lindsey knocked on the door and listened to the two sets of little feet running towards the door.

“Who is it?” Hadley yelled.

“It’s Aunt Lindsey,” she replied.

“I’m not allowed to open the door!”

“Your mommies asked me to come.”

There was a pause. “One second. MOMMA?!” She chuckled to herself, listening to Hadley making sure that this one time she could break the rule and open the door and not get in trouble. After several moments, the door was being pulled open.

The five year old’s eyes lit up. “Fergie!!!” She dropped to her knees and the little dog immediately began to lick at her face, so excited he was nearly vibrating.

“Let’s move this party further inside, huh?” Lindsey handed his leash to Hadley and picked up her duffle bag, shuffling inside and shutting the door behind her. Powell walked into the entryway and she nearly squealed as she swept him up into her arms. “Look at you! You’re getting so big!”

Hadley looked over at Lindsey with her hands on her hips. “I’m big too!”

“You are, you’re nearly as tall as I am!” This made Hadley giggle, and she went back to playing with Ferguson.

Lindsey put Powell down on the living room rug and made her way to the master bedroom, knocking on the door. “Guys?”

“Come in,” Christen replied, her voice raspy.

She cracked the door enough to see the two of them in bed, Tobin curled into Christen’s side. “Hey.”

“It’s a bit of hazmat situation in here,” Christen warned. “I wouldn’t come any closer.”

“Noted. How’re you feeling, Tobs?” She gave a pathetic moan and Lindsey laughed. “That tracks. Remember when you got strep throat in France?”

“I thought I was dying.”

“I thought I was going to kill you.”

Chris gave a tired smile. “Thank you so much for coming, Linds. The kids would have been so disappointed.”

“Of course! You know I love them.”

There was a thunk from the living room, followed by a wail and Lindsey grimaced. “That’s my signal. Seriously though, you guys rest. Auntie Linds has got this.”

X

By the time they arrived back at the Press-Heath household, Lindsey was exhausted. She had figured that they didn’t need to drive, that she could just walk with them, but Powell had grown tired of toddling after his sister after just four houses and had given her big puppy eyes until she had carried him. Hadley had insisted she was big enough to hold onto Fergie’s leash, but after she had dropped it twice, forcing Lindsey to dash after her rotten dog as he attempted to make a getaway, all the while still holding the eighteen month old, she’d insisted that she should hold Ferguson’s leash.

But now they were home and it was time for both kiddos to get ready for bed. She started Hadley’s bath water and, seeing as Powell was already crashed out on her shoulder, she decided he could sleep in his little cowboy outfit as long as she took off the hat. She gently laid him down and smoothed his hair, her heart nearly exploding as his thumb found its way into his mouth. She tucked him in and turned on the white noise machine, gently shutting his door.

“Alright Miss Hadley-”

The little girl gave her a look as she licked at her ring pop. “ _Doctor_ Hadley,” she reminded her, gesturing to where her play stethoscope had been thrown onto the rug.

“So sorry, Doctor, but it’s time to scrub up for bed.”

She pouted. “I don’t want to.”

Lindsey squatted in front of her. “Well, doctors have to stay super clean to keep their patients healthy.” When she still didn’t look convinced, Lindsey added, “How about this? If we have a nice, calm bath then we can read three books before bed. And tomorrow you can help me make pancakes and be Momma and Mommy’s doctors.”

Her eyes lit up. “Okay!”

“Alright!”

As Lindsey washed her hair, Hadley played with a plastic boat. “Are you married?” she asked suddenly.

“Uh… nope,” Lindsey answered.

“Why not?”

“I just… it hasn’t happened yet.”

“But you’re old like Momma and Mommy.”

She laughed. “Not quite. But I guess I am about the age they were when they got married.”

“Will you have a girl wife?”

Lindsey stopped, considering her answer. “I… don’t know.”

“So you might have a boy wife?”

“A husband,” Lindsey corrected.

“A boy husband?”

“Well… maybe. Here, lean back so we can wash out the shampoo.”

“When will you know?” Hadley demanded.

“When someone asks me.”

“Can you not ask them?”

“Yeah, I could,” Lindsey replied, not wanting to get into the gender politics of proposals with a five year old.

“Could you ask me?”

Lindsey laughed. “I can’t marry you! You’re just a little girl.”

“But I love you,” Hadley insisted, her green eyes every bit as big and beautiful as her mother’s.

Lindsey smiled. “And I love you, too. But maybe we’ll hold off on getting married.”

“Until I’m in first grade?”

Lindsey helped her stand up and unplugged the tub. She grabbed a fluffy towel and wrapped Hadley up in it, lifting her out. “We can talk about it again then.”

She laid her head against Lindsey’s shoulder. “Okay.”

Hadley nodded off during the second book, and Lindsey pulled her quilt up, kissing her temple. “Good night, Doctor Hadley. Sweet dreams.”

She checked in on Powell to find him still safely asleep. She stopped by Christen and Tobin’s room, but took the silence inside to mean that they were getting some much needed sleep. She walked into the living room to find Fergie curled up in the middle of the couch.

“Oh I’m sorry, are you exhausted from trying to escape from your loving home?” He gave a tiny grunt.

She grabbed a blanket from the hall closet then scooped Ferguson up, snuggling into the couch with him She plugged in her phone then switched the TV to old Grey’s Anatomy reruns, her eyes heavy. She would wake up in the morning with not one, but both of the munchkins cuddled up next to her, Ferguson staring reproachfully from the armchair. She didn’t get to play Auntie Lindsey as often as she liked, but she would take every opportunity she got.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tumblr: @thetheatrelady


	20. The Bloodline

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> For thirteen years, Sam has been dreading this day. But now it's here, and a price must be paid.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Bloodline  
> Pairing: Sam/Pat  
> Genre: Horror  
> Rating: M  
> TW: murder

“As we make our final decent into O’Hare airport in Chicago, we want to once again thank you for choosing American Airlines. It has been a pleasure having you on board with us today, and we hope to see you again the next time you fly. Once again, welcome to Chicago.”

Samantha Mewis’s hands were shaking as she took another sip of her tea, staring out the window as the ground came closer and closer. The plane gave a slight lurch of turbulence and she squeezed her eyes shut, wondering if they were about to fall out of the sky. Some small part of her wondered if that wouldn’t be preferable to actually reaching her destination but she shoved the thought from her mind. She had no time for loosely suicidal ideations today.

The plane touched down safely, as they almost always do, and Sam joined the line of sleep deprived passengers shuffling across the terminal to baggage claim. At first she had thought she would just take a carryon suitcase, she would only be there for a few days after all, but found herself paralyzed about what to wear, so she had thrown what felt like half of her closet into a suitcase and checked it with the airline, to be dealt with later.

Once her bag was in her possession, she made her way outside and found her sister leaning against their old family car, sunglasses in place and cigarette in hand. “Hi, Kristie.”

“Hey there, Sammy.” She dropped the cigarette to the ground and snuffed it out with a twist of her converse. She wrapped her arms around her in a loose hug. “How was your flight?”

“It was okay. Bumpy.” She gestured to the ground. “I thought you were going to quit.”

Kristie let out a huffy breath. “This really didn’t seem like the time.”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t…” She sighed. “Where’s Mom?”

“At the motel, probably drinking out of the bottle of whiskey she thinks I didn’t notice her stashing in her purse.”

Sam loaded her bag into the trunk and then took her place in the passenger seat. “How was the drive here?” she asked as they pulled away from the airport.

“Long,” Kristie groaned. “I didn’t get off until nearly four am, so I slept through my alarms and was woken up by mom banging on my door and screeching like a fucking banshee at noon. We were on the road by one and I got us here at about five thirty am.”

“You drove the whole thing through?”

“Well we didn’t have extra money for another motel room and it’s not like mom was in any state to drive.”

“Kristie, that’s so dangerous…”

“Life is dangerous, Sam. Isn’t that why we’re here?”

_“Happy birthday, Sammy!” She opened her eyes to find both of her parents sitting on her bed, smiling at her. “Look who’s the big 1-0!” her dad joked. “You’re so old!”_

_She sat up, rubbing at her eyes. “I’m not old!”_

_“Are you sure?” He tilted her head down, pretending to examine her head. “Oh no, I think I see a grey hair!”_

_“Dave,” her mother lightly chastised, and he grinned._

_“I’m just teasing, kiddo.”_

_“I know, Daddy.” She crawled into his lap. “I can’t wait until I’m big and strong like you!”_

_“You’re already pretty tall,” he commented, placing his hand on the top of her head._

_“She’s the tallest kid in her class,” her mother reminded him, the ever-constant shadow of worry in her voice deepening. “The boys only come up to her shoulder.”_

_“Good!” he boomed, tightening his arm around her shoulders. “That way you can show those boys who’s boss!”_

_Her mother stood up from the bed, crossing to the doorway. “I’m more worried about her never getting a prom date,” she threw over her shoulder._

_He gave Sam a wink. “Don’t worry about that, Junebug. Boys are nothing but trouble. You’re just fine the way you are.”_

They drove the hour to their shitty motel in Michigan City, Indiana. Sam found their mother was just as much of a wreck as Kristie had suggested, not able to meet Sam’s eyes as she flitted about the hotel room. Instead she chattered on about the different soap operas she was watching, about what had been going on with her sister, MaryAnne, about her new exercise class she had been taking down at the Y. Kristie drove them down the road to Denny’s where they had an exhausting dinner of hamburgers and yet more of their mom’s incessant babbling, as if every word she said kept away the reality of what they were here for.

Once back at the hotel, Donna took a couple sleeping pills and crawled into one of the double beds, turning her back to where her daughters were sitting. Kristie nudged Sam up from the bed and they went outside, sneaking down to the pool.

“God, I forgot how cold it gets here in the fall,” Sam said with a shiver as they dropped into the hard plastic pool chairs.

Kristie laughed. “California has spoiled you.”

“I know. I don’t even own a parka anymore.”

“Lucky you.” Kristie pulled out her pack of cigarettes and shook one out. “Want one?”

“No, I’m okay.”

“Suit yourself.” Kristie took a drag and slowly let out the stream of smoke, letting her head fall back. “I can’t believe it’s finally here. It felt like it would never really happen.”

“I know,” Sam agreed. “I’m ready for it to not be hanging over me. Pat says I’ve been talking more in my sleep.”

“Mm.” Kristie flicked ash to the ground. “How is Pat?”

Sam smiled. “He’s great. He’s been doing so good at work, and they promoted him. They um-” She swallowed thickly, glancing down at her left hand where she was nervously twisting her engagement ring around her finger. “They’ve been wanting to send him out on assignments. Work trips. So that’s obviously been… hard.”

“I bet.”

“But I’ve been working with my therapist. On my trust issues.”

“I think it’s normal. Why in the world _would_ you trust a man?” Kristie gave her a wry smile. “You should do like me and just give them up all together.”

Sam laughed. “Speaking of, how is your dating life?”

Her older sister shrugged. “Not much to speak of. I work and work and work, and when I’m horny I go to the bar and bring home a girl. I don’t have a lot of repeat customers.”

“What about that one girl? What was her name… Rebecca?”

“Rachel.”

“Yeah, what about her?”

Kristie smiled and shook her head. “Rachel and I have… an agreement. We have fun together, and get each other off, and she doesn’t ask me any questions about myself. It’s great.”

“Kris… don’t you think you’ll want to settle down someday?”

“Nah. I don’t need that.”

“I mean you don’t have to right now-”

“Sam.” Kristie had her eyes squeezed shut. “I’m getting by. That’s all that matters.”

“Are you?” Kristie gave her a look. “Getting by, I mean?”

“I’m fine,” she mumbled.

“Kris, you’re still smoking, you’re obviously not sleeping, you’re still working at that shitty bar, you’ve lost even more weight-”

“I can’t eat,” she cut in. “It’s not… not that I don’t want to. But I’m just not hungry. The thought of eating… I’ll be better after tomorrow.”

“Are you going to therapy?”

Kristie flicked the butt of her cigarette into the pool. “I don’t have the money. Or the time.”

“You need to-”

“Stop, Sam. Stop lecturing me. Stop telling me what I should be doing.”

“I just… I’m worried about you,” Sam explained.

“Yeah well that didn’t stop you from moving across the country and leaving me to take care of Mom,” she snapped.

Shame bloomed low in Sam’s stomach. “I… I’m sorry.”

Kristie sighed, reaching over to take Sam’s hand. “No, I’m sorry. It’s good that you left. It’s good that you’re doing something with your life.”

They both stared into the electric blue of the pool. “I’m scared,” Sam admitted.

Kristie squeezed her hand. “Me too.”

_She watched as the first car pulled into their driveway; her first party guest had arrived._

_“Mom! Mom, Sierra is here!” She ran from her room to the living room, but her parents were nowhere in sight. She walked into the kitchen but they still weren’t there. She walked into the den where Kristie was laying on the couch. “Where’s Mom and Dad?” she asked._

_She didn’t look up from the Seventeen magazine in her hands. “Maybe they’re in the office.”_

_Sam made her way down the hall. The office door was cracked, and she peeked inside. Her dad was sitting at the desk, his arms crossed as he listened to her mom._

_“-you just got back, this isn’t fair David! I don’t like feeling like I’m a single mom!”_

_“Donna, what do you want me to do? They want me to go to another conference in Indianapolis, I don’t have any say in the matter.”_

_“This promotion was supposed to be good for us-”_

_“It is good for us! Look at this house, at the cars in the driveway. This job lets you stay home, it pays for the girls’ activities-”_

_“The activities you don’t even get to see. You haven’t been to a single soccer game this season-”_

_He turned and saw Sam in the doorway, quickly giving her a smile and cutting her mom off. “Hey there, Junebug! What’s up?”_

_“Um… Sierra just got here.”_

_He stood up and walked over, opening the door wider. He spun her around and clapped his hands onto her shoulders. “Then what do you say, birthday girl? Is it time to get this party started?”_

The three of them were quiet the next day. Even their mom’s usual thoughtless chatter fell silent, her eyes staring at the TV but not taking anything in. The hours seemed to stretch and still, the minutes taking hours to pass. They got McDonalds for lunch, Kristie picking at her fries as Sam inhaled her food without tasting a single bite.

After taking showers, they all slowly began to get ready, Kristie laughing at the fifteen options Sam had brought along in her indecision. But by the time they were ready to leave the motel, no one was laughing.

Kristie drove the short way to the prison. As they climbed out of the car, Sam shivered, but she didn’t think it had anything to do with the early October wind whipping in off of Lake Michigan. She hugged her arms across her chest and followed her mom and sister up the sidewalk. When they were almost to the door, her mom suddenly turned.

“I tried to get them to change the date,” she said, her eyes staring hard into Sam’s. “I begged them. Asked them to move it even one day… but they said no.”

“it’s fine, Mom.” It wasn’t fine. But there was nothing to be done about it.

They went through the standard procedure, getting pat downs and having their bags searched. Then they were led down a series of winding hallways, the sickening mint green tile not leaving any hints of where they were going. It felt as if the guard escorting them were giving them looks, but Sam tried to tell herself that it was all in her head.

_“…happy birthday, dear Saaaaaam, happy birthday, to you!” Sam took a deep breath and blew out all ten candles as her friends laughed and cheered. Her mom carefully plucked out the candles and began slicing up the cake and placing it on plates to be handed out to the party guests._

_“Daddy, can I have a scoop of ice cream?” she asked, licking icing off of her fork._

_“Of course! Do you want chocolate or vanilla?”_

_“Chocolate!” He stepped over to the card table, ice cream scoop in hand, and suddenly all hell broke loose._

_“David Lynch Mewis! Hands where we can see them!”_

_“Get on the ground! Everyone get on the ground!_

_“Don’t do anything stupid, Mewis!”_

_Men in all black gear and helmets, guns drawn, had descended on their backyard. They seemed to come out of thin air, but years later she would see news footage that showed them coming over the back fence and around each side of the house._

_She could do nothing but watch as her mother snatched her and Kristi closer, the three watching as her father was tackled to the ground. She registered the SWAT guy speaking to her father, but all she could hear was her father’s strained voice as he craned his neck to look at them._

_“It’s okay! I promise. This is all just a misunderstanding! Everything is going to be okay.”_

They were shown to the witness room, and they sat in the front row of chairs. They were the first people there, and could do nothing but wait for everyone else. As they made their way in, everyone’s eyes flickered over to where Sam and her family was sitting. No one here were strangers. They had all been through the worst days of their lives together.

Some of them still regarded them with nothing but contempt and anger. She couldn’t fault them for that of course. That was their right. She had no right to tell people how to mourn. Others however, seemed to understand that this wasn’t their doing.

“Sam?” She looked up to see a woman about her age, her blonde hair pulled back in a bun.

“Emily?” She nodded and Sam stood up, giving her a hug. “Hey! It’s been a minute.”

“Yeah. Since… well, since the trial, I guess.”

“Yeah.” By the time her dad finally went to trial, she was fourteen, and she had insisted on attending with her mom. She had sat in that courtroom and listened to every detail, every piece of evidence the prosecutor had assembled against her father. She saw the pictures of the bodies that had been found, the women that had been raped, murdered, and discarded like they were nothing. She listened to the testimony of the lone survivor, watched the way she trembled as she spoke, glaring at where he sat next to his lawyer.

“Is Emma here?”

She shook her head. “No. She couldn’t… didn’t want to come. Neither did Dad.”

Sam furrowed her eyebrows. “You came alone?”

“No. Kelley came with me.” Emily beckoned a short brunette woman over. “Kelley, this is Sam. Sam, this is my girlfriend, Kelley.”

Sam shook her hand. “It’s nice to meet you.”

“You too! Sorry it’s under… these circumstances.” She gave a sympathetic smile. “So your mother was a victim too?”

Sam’s face pinched as Emily flinched, taking Kelley’s hand. “No, babe. Remember? Sam? Her dad is…”

“Oh.”

“Yeah.” Emily’s voice was uncomfortable.

Sam took a deep breath. “I’m glad you came with her.”

“Of course.”

“I saw on Instagram that you got engaged.”

“Yeah,” Sam gave a faint smile, and held out her hand to show Emily the ring.

“It’s beautiful.” She peered around. “Did Pat come?”

Sam shook her head. “No. He offered, I mean, he wanted to, but… I said no. I didn’t want him to see... Although maybe I should have. Should have let him see the exact reason why we can’t have kids.”

Emily laid a hand on her arm. “But you and Kristie are-”

Sam shook her head. “We have the DNA of a monster. Our bloodline ends with us.”

“Yeah.”

Sam sniffed and pasted on a smile. “And I mean, we can adopt! There’s nothing to say that we can’t be parents.”

“My sister adopted her oldest,” Kelley volunteered.

“Emily.” They turned to see a pale girl with long brunette hair, standing alongside a petite black girl. Sam offered them a smile but didn’t get one back. Rose and Mal had never quite been able to separate Sam from her father’s crimes.

“We better go sit down,” Emily said quietly.

“Yeah, of course.” Sam licked her lips. “Um, Em?”

“Yeah?”

“I… you can say no, obviously, but would you want to come to the wedding?”

Emily stared at her for a moment, and Sam was worried she had made a dire mistake. But then she gave her a tired smile. “I would really like that,” she said softly.

“Great,” Sam said. “I’ll send you a message.”

“Sounds good.” They exchanged one last hug, then Sam took her seat next to Kristie.

“Why would you want her at your wedding?” Kristie asked under her breath. “Are you a masochist? All that’s going to do is remind you of what happened.”

“I mean, Dad won’t be there, so I doubt I’m going to forget it anyway,” Sam mumbled back. By this point, the room was full, everyone murmuring quietly as if afraid of being too loud.

The curtain covering the window was drawn back, and Sam couldn’t help but gasp. On the other side of the glass was her father, strapped to the table in his prison jumpsuit. In the thirteen years since the day he had been tackled to the ground by a fully outfitted SWAT member, his face had aged, his skin growing grayer and looser. His hair was longer than it ever had been when Sam was a kid. She tried not to look at where the IV had already been inserted into his arm. Instead she looked at the phone on the wall, the one placed there in case of the execution being stayed. She knew it wouldn’t be. Tomorrow news outlets across the nation would report on how David Lynch Mewis, otherwise known as the Near Eastside Ripper, a man who terrorized the sex workers of Indianapolis for over five years as he targeted women with young daughters, was put to death.

A man cleared his throat. “David Lynch Mewis, you have been sentenced to death by lethal injection by the state of Indiana for your crimes of rape and murder. Do you have a final statement to make at this time?”

He sniffed, his eyes sweeping the silent gallery of witnesses through the window. “I want to say I’m sorry for the pain I caused you. I truly wanted to make the world a better place.” By this point, her mom was sobbing into Kristie’s shoulder, and Sam awkwardly patted her shoulder. “Donna… I’m sorry. To my girls… I love you. No matter what I have done, I have always loved you. Krisite, you’ve always been my sunshine. And Sam…” He gave a watery smile. “Happy birthday, Junebug.” He looked back to the man and nodded.

The preacher standing to the side stepped forward and prayed for him, then everyone looked towards the clock, watching as it slowly counted down to midnight.

The clock struck twelve and another nod was given, and the injection was given.

Samantha Mewis cried one single tear as her one time hero, the man who had proven to be so many women’s worst nightmare, took his last, ragged breath.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tumblr: @thetheatre


	21. The Stranger

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some say that fairies don’t exist. They consider them to be nothing more than folklore, something along the lines of elves and werewolves. Something to laugh at.  
> But there was a time, long ago by human standards, when the fae folk were something to respect. When they not only were real, but something to fear, something to take very, very seriously.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Stranger  
> Pairing: Ronett, Soran  
> Genre: Fantasy  
> Rating: T  
> TW: magic?
> 
> This chapter is dedicated to WhyDoIWrite, who I never would have considered Ronett without

Some say that fairies don’t exist. They consider them to be nothing more than folklore, something along the lines of elves and werewolves. Something to laugh at.

But there was a time, long ago by human standards, when the fae folk were something to respect. When they not only were real, but something to fear, something to take very, very seriously.

Emily’s small village was not doing well. They had recently had illness sweep through, taking out entire families in days. This was in fact how Emily had become _dílleachta._ Her mother and sister had caught the fever and passed in what felt like mere hours. Emily sat by their bedsides, wiping at their brows, and waited for the sickness to consume her as well. What good was this world to her if her sister, her twin, was gone? But the fever never came.

Her father had been killed several years earlier when the Viking warrior ships had landed on the shore. They had raided and pillaged, slaying almost every man that stood in their way, taking what women caught their eyes, and setting fire to the small cottages.

She was alone. She spent her days tending her small garden, doing small mending jobs for people in the village to earn bits of money. She knew that she couldn’t go on like this. She wouldn’t survive the winter this way. She knew what would solve this problem, what would ensure her survival, but that didn’t mean it was easy to swallow.

“He wants to ask for your hand, y’know.” Lindsey lifted her skirts, sticking to the path as they made their way to forage.

“So I’ve been told,” Emily sighed.

“He’s a decent man! Russell likes him. And he would give you a good home, full of sons.” Emily had plenty to say about what constituted a ‘decent man,’ mainly that she wasn’t sure that any friend of Russell’s could be one, but she bit her tongue. Lindsey was somehow happy with the man, but Emily found him to be insufferable, self-important, and bearing no sense of humor. To no surprise, he was not fond of Emily either. “Do you not want to be happy?” Lindsey asked softly.

She nodded, picking her way over tree roots. “I do. I do want to be happy.”

“Then you’ll need a husband.”

“Does he make you happy when he yells at you?” The bitter question slipped past her lips before she could stop it.

Lindsey gave her a warning look. “Sometimes we don’t agree, but that doesn’t mean that I don’t love him. And he could have… he didn’t have to marry me. Especially with what happened to Cordelia.” Lindsey’s older sister had born the baby of one of the Vikings, through no fault of her own, but the white haired little girl continued to be a source of shame for their family, and had affected Lindsey’s marriage prospects. “And now that I’ve reached the quickening, I can be assured that the baby will come.” She gently rubbed her stomach, round underneath her dress. “Russell will love him.”

“And if it’s a her?”

Lindsey didn’t look at Emily. “Then I will love her enough for the both of us, and will lie with him every night until a son comes.”

Emily took a deep breath, debating how candid she should be in her answer, but stopped. “Wait. Where are we?”

Being so focused on her own future, Emily hadn’t been paying attention to where they had been walking. Glancing around now, she knew that they were nowhere near the berry bushes that had been their destination.

“Uh… we must have strayed from the path,” Lindsey said uneasily.

“Is that the river?” Emily said, pointing. She took several steps forward, but suddenly Lindsey’s hand was gripping her elbow.

“Stop.”

“What?”

“That’s not the river. We’ve gone too far, that’s the Carteraugh spring.” Sure enough, when Emily looked closer, she saw the crack in the far rock, the mark that her mother had told her about when she and Emma were just knee high. The Carteraugh spring served as a portal between the mortal world and that of the fae kind. Legend said that anytime a woman was to drink of the crystal clear water, the fae king would show up and take them home as one of his brides.

“We’ve walked far, I’m thirsty,” Emily said softly.

Lindsey’s hand tightened around her arm. “Emily…”

She gave her best friend a smile. “Haven’t you been lecturing me about finding a husband all morning?” She pulled her arm away and Lindsey sighed.

“This is not a good idea, _a chara_ ,” she warned.

“You worry too much.” Emily sank to her knees at the edge of the water and cupped her hands, bringing them to her mouth. The water was cold and clean, refreshing in a way that their river was not. She could feel it running down her throat and pooling in her stomach. She slowly opened her eyes, half expecting to see a fairy king striding towards her, but there was nothing apart from a fox, staring at her from the tree line. She turned to Lindsey with a smile.

“See? Everything is fine. Have some water.”

Lindsey shook her head resolutely, her hand curling protectively around her stomach. “No. We should head back.”

Sensing that her best friend was not happy with her, she did her best to joke and cajole her into a better mood as they picked their way out of the woods. By the time they hit the road, Lindsey was smiling and laughing. She threw her arm around Emily’s shoulders.

“Oh Emily. Who wouldn’t want to marry you?”

A hot stone dropped into Emily’s stomach, but she pushed away the pain, instead leaning into Lindsey’s embrace.

“Excuse me?”

They both turned to find a girl on the road behind them, her long brown hair blowing in the wind. “Yes?” Lindsey asked.

“Is there a village nearby?”

“Yes, ours,” Lindsey replied, telling her the name.

“I’ve been walking all day,” the stranger said. “Might there be a place to stay? I’m just passing through.”

“We can help you find something.”

She smiled, her teeth glittering in the midday sun. “Thank you. Can I have your names?”

Emily opened her mouth, but quickly caught Lindsey’s elbow in her side. “I am called Lindsey, and this is my friend Emily.” Emily grumbled and rubbed at her ribs, but truthfully she had known better. You never gave a stranger your name. It was just asking for magical intervention in your life. “And you?”

“My people call me Rosemary, but Rose will do.”

“You can walk with us,” Lindsey said. “You’re lucky. Today is the first day of Samhain.”

Rose gave them a sharp look. “Samhain isn’t for a week yet.”

Emily nodded. “Yes. But in our village we celebrate with a week of bonfires and dance leading up to it.”

“How… lovely.”

“There’s to be a dance tonight. Perhaps you can catch someone’s eye,” Lindsey suggested.

Rose smirked. “Perhaps.”

* * *

The mead had been flowing for hours, leaving everyone rosy-cheeked and loose, laughter spilling out into the chilly air. Emily leaned against a post, watching her fellow village people dance in the square, the flickering light of the torches lending a mysterious air to the celebration. She watched as Lindsey danced with Russell, her head tossed back with a smile.

“You love her,” a voice at her shoulder said softly.

She flinched, turning to find Rose standing just behind her. “Yes. She is my dearest friend,” Emily answered carefully.

“But she’s more than that, isn’t she?”

Emily swallowed. “I’m sure I don’t know what you mean.”

“Is she not your beloved?”

Emily blushed. “She is married. She is with child.”

“That is not what I asked.”

Emily turned slightly, looking at the visitor. Her skin was pale, not a rarity on the coast of Ireland, but she seemed to almost glow. “Who are you?” she asked. “Why are you here?”

“I told you. I’m passing through.”

“Where are you going?”

“Home.”

“Where is home?”

Rose smiled. “Far. Very far. But at the same time, oh so close.”

“Do you always speak in riddles?”

“Do you always avoid questions?”

Emily smiled. “Yes. It’s what I’m best at.” She sighed, looking back at the dancing crowd. “Questions make things… difficult.”

“Yes…” Rose agreed. “I can see that.” She took Emily’s hand. “Will you walk with me?”

Away from the town square, the wind had a nip to it, and Emily clutched her shawl closer. Rose, for her part, seemed unaffected. “What became of your family?” the brunette girl asked.

“They’ve passed. I’m the only one left.”

“All of your siblings?” Rose asked incredulously.

“I just had one. We were twins and, well, when my mother’s time came, she bled quite heavily. The midwife kept her alive, but at the expense of any future children.”

“I see,” she murmured. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s not so bad,” Emily lied. “I don’t mind the quiet.”

Rose walked up to a tall elder tree on the edge of their village. She closed her eyes and ran her palm along its trunk. Apparently finding whatever she was searching for, Rose turned back to Emily.

“What do you want?” Rose asked.

Emily was breathless for a moment. “To be free. I want to live but not as a hawk in a cage.”

Rose smiled, her sharp teeth sinking into the bottom lip for a moment. “As you wish.” She began to speak in a language that Emily didn’t quite understand, then slowly leaned forward, pressing her lips against Emily’s, and the world went dark.

* * *

Three days later, Emily walked down the village road in a daze. The sun was just beginning to peek over the horizon, and she felt tired, so tired, the kind of exhaustion that sinks deep into your bones. She bypassed her own cottage and went straight for Lindsey’s, knowing that her best friend had likely been worried sick.

She knocked gently on the door and heard a familiar voice bid her come in. She slipped through the door, but didn’t come any closer, watching Lindsey as she tended to a pot on the fire. She straightened up and turned around. When her eyes landed on Emily, her mouth dropped open in a sort of silent scream.

“I know,” Emily rushed to say. “I’m sorry, I know that you must have been worried-” She was cut off by Lindsey grabbing her by the shoulders and shoving her against the wall.

“Who are you?” she demanded. “What do you want from me?”

“Lindsey, it’s me!” Emily gasped out. “It’s Emily!”

Lindsey pulled back, her entire body shaking. “No… no…”

“I know that you’re upset-”

“Upset?” She gave an incredulous laugh. “I’m not upset, I’m, I’m confused! I’m frightened! We, we sent out search parties but you were gone without a trace.”

“I know, but when you hear where I’ve been-”

“I thought you were dead,” Lindsey spat.

“I’m sorry,” Emily insisted, grabbing her by the hands. “I know that the past few days must have been terrible-”

“Days?” Lindsey asked. “Emily… it’s been seven years.”

“Wha…” A million thoughts spun through her mind. Seven years? She thought back on the past few days, of waking up in the fairy realm, of being given more food and drink at every meal than she’d had even on festival days. She’d spent hours in Rose’s bed, working between her legs until her bedchambers had been filled with moans and gasps of delight. “No. It’s been just three days.”

Lindsey tugged her closer to the fire, and Emily could see now hat her face was not quite as she remembered it. It was thinner, older, with a scar near her hairline. Emily ran her fingers over it and Lindsey flinched. “What happened?” Emily breathed.

“Where have you been?”

“I… Rose. The girl we met on the road. She…”

“She what?”

“She was a fae. She took back to their world and… Lindsey, the things they have! They don’t want for anything, they don’t have to struggle, the land opens up for them-”

A whimpering cry broke through the cottage, and Emily paused. “Goodness. Is that…”

Lindsey strode over to a cradle and lifted out a baby, bringing the bundle over to Emily. The baby stared up at the stranger, eyes round and blue like Lindsey’s.

Emily offered her finger, amazed at the tiny hand that gripped it. “But… if it’s been seven years then this can’t be…”

Lindsey gave a choked laugh. “No. My fourth. My only son. Liam.”

“Liam…” Emily breathed. She glanced up at Lindsey. “Russell must be thrilled.”

A dark look passed over Lindsey’s face. “Russell is dead.”

“Oh!” She shook her head. “I’m so sorry.”

“Don’t be. I’m not.” She smiled at the baby in her arms. “The only good things he ever gave me were these four.” She passed the baby to Emily, going back about preparing breakfast.

“How did he…”

“Illness. Pains in his stomach.”

“I see.” She stroked the little one’s nose. “You said he’s your fourth?”

She nodded, a smile creeping onto her face. “Saoirse, Aisling, and Bronagh. My darling ones.”

“Are you happy?”

Lindsey turned back to her. “Now that you’re home? Of course.”

Emily’s eyes pricked with tears, and she sniffed against them. “I should go,” she said softly. “I’m sure you must be busy, and need to get started on your day. I’ll go to my cottage-”

Lindsey cleared her throat uncomfortably. “Emily… you were gone so long…”

“Ah.” She swallowed. “Someone else has it now?” Lindsey nodded. “Well then I should go about figuring out somewhere to live…” Doubt and fear had begun to creep into her stomach. Why had Rose done this? She’d thought that she cared for her. Why would she drop her back into a world where she was homeless, where she would surely starve?

“No. Don’t go.”

“Lindsey…”

“You’ll stay here. This will be your home.”

Emily shook her head. “I couldn’t, you, you’re a mother, you need to focus on them-”

“Can you love them?”

“Of… of course!” Emily gasped. “They’re half you, I couldn’t love them more if I tried.”

Lindsey raised her head shyly. “Can you still love me? Even though I’m old and broken?”

Emily placed her hand on Lindsey’s cheek. “You’ve always been beautiful to me.”

Lindsey blushed and took the baby back, returning him to his cradle. “Then you will live here. We will be your family.” She reached out and squeezed Emily’s hands. “I’m going to wake the girls. Start ladling the porridge.” She left the room and Emily did as she was told, her heart so full she thought it might burst. She raised her head and through the window saw a small fox out on the road. They locked eyes and Emily would have swore that it winked at her before turning and disappearing from sight, never to be seen again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tumblr: @thetheatrelady


	22. The Munchies

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ashlyn was bored. She was high. She was bored and high and mad at the world. Thankfully, her grandma knew exactly how to pull her out of it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Munchies  
> Pairing: mentioned Krashlyn  
> Genre: Fluff  
> Rating: T  
> TW: none
> 
> I'm so sorry I didn't post yesterday!!! It was just a very busy day, at some point I'll double post to catch us back up!

Ashlyn Harris sat on her bed and stared up at the ceiling.

She was so goddamn bored.

Not only that, but she was high. Higher than she had intended on getting, if she was being honest. She was just high enough that everything was lagging just a second or two behind, making her boredom that much more terrible.

Normally she would be messing around on her phone or her laptop or playing video games or spending time with Ali. But that was before she had come home two hours after curfew, getting herself grounded from everyone and everything that wasn’t strictly school related. Her grandma had honestly been so mad that Ashlyn was counting herself lucky that she hadn’t just gone ahead and pulled her out of school completely.

She hadn’t meant to be so late. She’d intended on going to the party and having a few drinks with her friends. But then a few drinks had turned into six, along with weed in the back bedroom. Then, Ali had walked through the front door right as Ash was laughing and joking around with Christen of all people, and that had immediately sent the two of them into a fight. She had felt her phone vibrating in her pocket as she and Ali screamed at each other in the front yard, but in that moment she hadn’t had the time or ability to deal with her grandparents.

So here she was, grounded to her house for what might be the rest of her senior year, no technology, her girlfriend still pissed and ignoring her, and way higher than she had intended on being.

Life fucking blew.

There was a knock on the door. “Come in,” she mumbled. Her grandma poked her head in and Ashlyn struggled to sit up. “Yeah?”

“What are you doing?”

“Nothing,” Ashlyn grumbled. “Isn’t that the point?”

She came further in, looking around the messy room and wrinkling her nose. Something told Ashlyn she hadn’t been as diligent with the air freshener as she should have been. “You need to clean up this room, open up some windows, get some fresh air in.”

“’Kay.” She didn’t move from the side of her bed.

Her grandma sighed and cupped her face. “Oh Ashlyn. What are we going to do with you, my girl?” Ashlyn didn’t answer. “Let’s go downstairs. I have something that can occupy those idle hands.”

She followed her into the kitchen and her grandma handed her an apron. She groaned. “Seriously?”

“What? You wanna get your clothes all dirty?”

“We’re cooking?”

“No. We’re baking.” Ashlyn rolled her eyes, slipping the apron over her head. She didn’t want to waste her time doing this girly shit. “C’mon. Just humor me, sweet pea.”

Her grandma pulled a cookbook off the shelf and began to flip through it. “Hmm… What do you think? Pumpkin pie? Brownies? Apple turnovers?”

Ashlyn furrowed her eyebrows. “Turnovers sound way too complicated.”

This earned her a smile. “Just because something takes time, doesn’t mean it’s too complicated. That goes for most of life.” She put her hands on her hips. “Apple turnovers it is!”

She began to guide Ashlyn through the steps as she sat at the kitchen table, peeling and cutting up the apples.

“Mama, I can’t do this! It’s talking about lamination; I don’t know what-”

“Easy, easy. Don’t get ahead of yourself. One thing at a time. Just focus on the step that you’re on.”

Ashlyn began the long process of rolling out the dough, folding it and turning it until she was lost in the repetition.

“You know… baked goods are always an easy way to win over a special someone,” her grandma said. Ashlyn gave a noncommittal grunt, pressing the rolling pin harder into the pale dough. “Does Ali like apple turnovers?”

“I don’t know. You would have to ask her.”

She paused for a moment. “Are you two not seeing each other anymore?”

“No, we…” she sighed. “I don’t know, Mama. I don’t know what’s going on.”

“Well tell me what’s been happening.” It was as if a dam had been broken. With her eyes focused on the task in front of her, Ashlyn began to pour out her heart, telling her grandma things she hadn’t even realized were bothering her. She told her about the dumb fight that she and Ali had gotten into, about how deeply she cared for Ali but her fear that people looked down on her because she came from less money from the Kriegers. She told her about her worry that someday Ali would realize that she wasn’t worth it and move on, either to another girl or to one of the many guys in their grade who was interested.

Her grandma hummed. “I think it’s natural to be a little afraid, sweet pea. After all, this is your first real love. There are all sorts of big and complicated emotions that can be overwhelming. But you can’t let your fear of it not working out make you self-sabotage.”

Ashlyn sighed. “I just… I like her so much. And I’m worried that I’m not good enough for her.”

“Have you ever stopped to wonder if she’s good enough for you?” Ashlyn shot her a near dirty look and she laughed. “I’m not saying anything against Ali, honey. You know that I really like her, I think she’s a smart, sweet girl who overall is a good influence on you. But a relationship isn’t a one-way street. You both deserve someone who’s doing their best to treat you with love and kindness and respect.”

“The fight we got into at the party was so stupid. I mean, Christen’s gorgeous, of course, but I don’t feel that way about her. And she only had eyes for Tobin. Ali has absolutely nothing to worry about.”

“Did you tell her that?”

“Yes!” Her grandma gave her a look. “Well, I mean I tried to. But she was already yelling and mad, she wouldn’t give me a chance to explain!”

“Why do you think she was so upset?”

“Because she was being crazy,” Ashlyn grumbled.

Her grandma gave a low chuckle. “Well I hope you didn’t say as much to her. There are two c words that most women don’t take well to being called, and crazy is one of them.”

Ashlyn snorted. “Sure.” She began to cut the dough into rectangles using a butter knife. “I just wish that she could see that I love her.”

“I’m sure she knows, Ash. But that doesn’t mean that she’s going to be immune from doubts.”

“I know.” She sighed, the common sense of her grandmother’s words hitting her full in the chest.

“Here are the apples for your filling. The big saucepan is on the draining board.”

“Thanks.” Ashlyn retrieved it, then began measuring out sugar and spices.

“Have you thought anymore about what you want for your birthday?”

“You mean I’m not grounded from gifts, too?” Ashlyn couldn’t resist jibing.

Her grandma sighed. “Oh Ash. You do realize that we don’t like punishing you, right? I hate it. But when you weren’t home for curfew, and you weren’t answering your phone… honey we were worried sick. I was half a breath from calling the police! I probably would have if your pops wouldn’t have been talking me down.”

“I know, I know it was a shitty thing to do, really. I should have come home on time, time just got away from me.”

“And I understand that, but at the same time, there has to be consequences. Otherwise you won’t learn.”

Ashlyn groaned, scraping the sides of the pot harder than necessary. “I know.”

“Because I know your soul sweet pea. You’re a good girl, who cares deeply about others. And I don’t want that to get lost as you grow up into a young woman.” Ashlyn didn’t say anything, instead tipping the bowl of apples into the sugar mixture.

“Y’know, sometimes it’s hard for me to believe that you’re a senior. I guess in my mind you’ll always be six years old with no front teeth,” she laughed. “Before we know it, you’ll be heading off to college.”

Ashlyn nodded, her eyes glued to the apples. “Yeah.”

“Are you excited? Nervous?”

“I… both, I guess. Especially because I still don’t know where I’ll be going.”

Her grandma watched her for a few moments. “UNC is gonna call any day, sweet pea.”

“But what if they don’t?” She was embarrassed of the way her voice cracked, she she cleared her throat and started again. “What if they decide to go with someone else? A keeper who’s bigger, or faster, or-”

“Or what if they look at all you’ve accomplished, at your immense skill and work ethic, and decide there’s no one else they would rather have?”

“I just… I’ll feel better once the offer comes.”

“I know.” She stood up and helped Ashlyn carefully spoon the mixture onto each rectangle of dough, crimping the edges closed then topping them with an egg wash. After popping them in the oven, the two began to clean up the kitchen.

“Ashlyn, I know you’re getting older. And I know you’re under a lot of stress and pressure between school and soccer and college and the U-19 team… I know it has to be a lot.”

“It’s fine,” Ashlyn mumbled, but if she was being honest, it was a lot. It felt like most nights she stared up at the ceiling, her mind whirling, convinced that she was forgetting something, that something was falling through the cracks.

“Honey.” She grabbed Ashlyn’s hands and turned her so they could look at each other directly. “I know that it’s a lot. And I also know that there are things that run in our blood, things like depression and anxiety and anger issues and addiction that can make it even worse. And I…” she sighed. “I’m here for you, sweet pea. If you need to talk, you can always come to me. Or if you need to speak to a counselor or therapist, we can find one to help get you through this time. But drugs and alcohol are only going to make it worse, Ashlyn.”

Ash started to shrug her words off, but then sighed. “I know they will,” she admitted. “It’s just… sometimes it helps me forget. It helps me relax. It helps me not feel like everything is on the verge of falling apart.”

“And I understand. But we can find you help. I promise.” She gave her a tight hug, then they were broken apart by the beeping of the stove.

The apple turnovers were perfectly golden brown and smelled delicious. It was hard to resist the urge to eat one before they had cooled, but when Ashlyn finally bit into one, she let out a moan.

“Mama these are so good!”

She smiled. “Of course they are, they were made with love.”

Ashlyn stared at the plate as she took another bite.

“I know that I’m grounded, but… can I take some over to Ali’s? As a peace offering?”

Her grandma smiled, pressing a kiss to her forehead. “I bet that will be just fine.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tumblr: @thetheatrelady


	23. The Creak

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Breaking into the old Daniels house is a right of passage, there's nothing at all to be afraid of... right?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Creak  
> Pairing: Krashlyn, hints of Preath  
> Genre: Horror  
> Rating: E  
> TW: sexual content, violence, death  
> *THIS FIC CONTAINS CHARACTER DEATH, DO NOT READ IF YOU WILL FIND THIS DISTRESSING*

The 1996 Bronco gave a terrific groan as Ashlyn took the corner too sharply, sending everyone in the back careening into the side.

“Ash be careful, you’re gonna get pulled over,” Ali chastised from the passenger seat.

Ashlyn lifted their intwined hands to her lips. “Nah, we’re fine.”

Pinoe was craned backwards in her seat, checking on the cooler of drinks they had brought along. “If we get pulled over, we’re all going to jail,” she reminded everyone.

“Where are we even going?” Kelley asked. She was grumpy because they had forced her to sit on Tobin’s lap instead of having a seat to herself. It wasn’t her fault that she was always the smallest of the group.

“It’s a surprise,” Ashlyn repeated for the millionth time.

“Ouch! Kelley that’s my foot,” Christen winced.

“You think that’s bad? Her boney ass is digging into my thighs,” Tobin laughed.

Kelley gave her an outraged look. “My ass is not boney, it is magnificent!”

“Say what you want, it’s making my legs go numb.”

A gasp from the front seat interrupted their squabble. “Ash, no.”

Ashlyn parked the car with a grin. “Oh yeah.”

Kelley pressed her face against the window and found herself staring up at the old Daniels house. Having sat abandoned since they were kids, it was long rumored to be haunted.

“How are we supposed to get inside?” Christen asked.

“Don’t worry about that, we’ve got it covered,” Pinoe assured her.

“Wait, you knew where we were going?” Kelley asked.

Pinoe just shrugged. “I had a suspicion.”

The girls spilled out of the Bronco. Tobin and Ali each took a side of the cooler and began to walk up the long, overgrown walkway. Kelley couldn’t help but pause. It seemed as if every spooky story her older sister had ever told her was flooding back to the forefront of her mind.

“You okay?” She turned to see Christen waiting for her.

“Yeah, it’s just…” she shrugged. “The Daniels house, y’know.”

Christen gave a shiver, her arms folded tight to her body. “I know. Tyler used to tell me the most grizzly stories about this place.”

Kelley laughed, wiggling her fingers into the crook of Christen’s arm and beginning the trek up the walkway. “I was just thinking the same thing about Erin.”

They joined the others who were huddled around the back door, where Pinoe was doing her best to jimmy open the door using a screwdriver and her debit card.

“Are you sure about this?” Tobin asked doubtfully.

Pinoe didn’t look up from her work. “Shut up, I watched like eighteen youtube videos. If I just… and then put that there… then twist… ha!” The door swung inwards and she popped to her feet with a triumphant grin. “Told you I could do it!” They all hurried inside, shutting and locking the door behind them.

They were obviously not the first people to have forced their way inside. Several walls sported graffiti tags and crude drawings done with sharpie, not to mention the floors were littered with trash and leaves. Ashlyn lifted her phone high in their air, casting the flashlight about. “There must be a broken window somewhere.”

“Where do we wanna set up?” Tobin asked.

“Mm, over here in the living room I guess.” They passed through kitchen and past the dining room, Kelley eyeing the long dining table that was covered in a dusty white cloth. The living room still had a massive tan and red floral couch in the middle, opposite of a busted up TV set.

“It’s weird that they just… left everything,” Tobin said.

“Well, when you’ve gone fucking bananas, you don’t have much of a choice,” Pinoe retorted.

“Let’s take a tour,” Ashlyn suggested. They each grabbed a beer out of the cooler they had brought along and followed her lead. “This is the living room, obviously, in all of its 70’s glory. We came in through the kitchen, and you probably saw the dining room, notable for its ratchet wood paneling.”

“Wait, have you been in here before, Ash?” Christen asked, confused.

She nodded. “Yeah. When I was like twelve I tagged along with my brother and his friends. Now if you’ll follow me…” She stepped to the other side of the staircase. She led them through the only bedroom on that floor, which was almost completely empty other than a giant wardrobe on one wall. They peeked into it’s adjoining bathroom, where some idiot had spray painted ‘Rub a dub dub’ above the clawfoot bathtub. They carefully picked their way up the squeaky stairs, not wanting to accidentally fall through due to rotting wood. The first bedroom was just a normal room, the curtains, yellowed with age, still hanging in the windows. The second bedroom however, proved nightmarish.

“Oh hell no,” Tobin spat, pausing in the doorway. “This shit is haunted for sure.”

“Relax,” Pinoe said, but her face revealed she wasn’t exactly thrilled about the room’s contents either.

It had obviously been the bedroom of several children, with three single beds along the long wall, their metal headboards now rusted. Ashlyn reached a hand out and gently prodded a wooden rocking horse, making it bob forward ominously.

“Why would someone take some of the things, but then leave all of their kids’ toys behind?” Tobin wandered aloud.

“They left everything but what they could put in suitcases,” Kelley said without thinking. “Any missing furniture is what the police took.”

Tobin gave her a suspicious look. “What are you talking about?”

Christen rubbed her arms, glancing around. “If we’re going to tell this story, can we go downstairs? This room gives me the creeps.”

“I need another beer anyways,” Pinoe agreed.

They ignored the last bedroom on that floor and headed back downstairs. Once they were back in the living room, sitting on the floor in front of the couch, Ashlyn cleared her throat. “It all started on a cold fall night…” she began in what she clearly considered a spooky voice.

Ali rolled her eyes with a smirk. “it was February.”

“It all started on a cold, spring night…” she amended before dropping the voice. “Back in the 70’s, a family called the Daniels lived here. The dad was like a banker or something, and the mom stayed home to take care of their thirteen kids.”

“Thirteen?!” Tobin interrupted.

Christen laughed. “Can you imagine??”

“Did birth control not exist?”

Ashlyn gave her a significant look. “Well that’s the thing. While at the time people considered them to be a happy family, once the oldest, Rick Jr, became an adult, he revealed that while they were happy most of the time, his father, Richard, was obsessed with having a large family. As soon as the mom, Joan, would push one out, he would be trying to knock her up again, which is how they ended up with thirteen kids under the age of eighteen. But in February of 1974, Joan had just given birth to their youngest, Lee. He was just a few months old but Richard was ready to go again, and she fell into such a state of despair that she ended up going to the roof and throwing herself to her death.”

“Oh my god,” Tobin yelped.

Kelley couldn’t help but shudder. She couldn’t imagine what the mom must have been thinking.

Christen piped up. “Oh it doesn’t end there.”

Ashlyn shook her head. “The husband was driven mad by grief, and he ended up smothering the baby to death then killing himself, right in that room.” She pointed at the bedroom right behind them.

“Holy shit.” Tobin had gone rather pale.

“Don’t worry, Tobs, I think the story has gotten blown up over the years,” Ali said.

“No, it’s all true,” Pinoe insisted. “My dad was ten, he was in school with one of the Daniels kids. Peter, I think. He said that one day everything was fine, then the next Peter wasn’t there, and the mom’s sister took the twelve living kids to stay with her.”

“Dang…”

“My mom was five, and she was in class with one of the little girls, Beverly,” Ashlyn added.

“So three people died in this house?” Tobin asked.

Kelley gave her a look. “At least.”

“Kel,” Christen said, hitting her in the arm.

“I’m serious!” she protested. “When the oldest son turned eighteen he inherited the house and he wanted to knock it to the ground, but it was built in like, 1902 or something, so he couldn’t. But no one has lived in it since. And people say that people have used it for drug deals and stuff.”

Pinoe sat up straighter with a grin. “Speaking of drug deals…” She dug into her pocket and pulled out a joint. “Who wants some?”

Ashlyn laughed. “You’ve been holding out on us!”

She lit the end and they passed it around, everyone partaking but Christen, who wasn’t much a smoker. The smoke curled through the room, and it left everyone feeling relaxed and giggly. After several minutes, Ali and Ashlyn began to get handsy and they both decided to head upstairs for a little more privacy, Ashlyn flipping off the others as they catcalled and made lewd remarks.

Tobin and Pinoe were digging through the cooler, so Kelley slumped down so that her head was in Christen’s lap, earning a giggle from her best friend. “I fucking love Halloween,” she sighed happily.

Christen smiled and began to run her fingers through Kelley’s tangled brown hair. “It’s not even Halloween yet, you dork.”

“Who cares?” she hummed, her eyes drifting shut.

“I always forget how soft and cuddly pot makes you. You turn into a little puppy dog.”

“Speaking of puppy dogs,” Kelley said lowly, forcing her eyes open. “When are you going to take pity on Tobin?”

Christen avoided her eyes. “What does that have to do with puppies?”

“Puppy dog eyes, Chris, keep up.”

“You’re high,” she said dismissively.

“You’re avoiding the truth,” Kelley returned.

“She doesn’t like me like that,” Christen hissed quietly. “I know you think she does but-”

“But?!”

“What are you two whispering about?” Pinoe asked.

“Puppies,” Christen quickly answered, giving Kelley a look to drop the subject.

Ashlyn stumbled backwards through the first bedroom door, her hands already securely in her girlfriend’s hair as they kissed. Ali kicked the door closed behind them, and Ashlyn tried to lead her to the big bed in the middle of the room.

“Wait,” Ali said, pulling back. “We can’t- not on that!”

“What why?”

Ali gestured fruitlessly at it. “Because! No one has slept in it for fifty years, who knows what kind of bugs and stuff are living in it!”

“Well then where-”

“Just, here is fine.” She brought her lips back to Ashlyn’s and guided her to the floor.

“Oh so the bed is too unsanitary but the floor is fine?”

Ali raised an eyebrow. “Do you want to fuck or not?” Ashlyn laughed and Ali crawled into her lap so that she was straddling her. “C’mon baby. You know that smoking makes me horny.”

Ashlyn chuckled and brought her lips to mouth at Ali’s pulse point. “You’re always horny.”

Ali gave a soft groan. “I mean can you blame me? I would spend the rest of my life naked with you if I could.”

Ashlyn pulled Ali’s shirt over her head then began to tease her nipples through the lace of her bra. Ali keened, rolling hips into Ashlyn, searching for friction as her fingers fumbled with the buttons of Ashlyn’s shirt.

Once she got her shirt off and both of their bras had joined the pile of clothing on the floor Ali moaned into Ashlyn’s ear. Ashlyn answered with a groan of her own, pinching at Ali’s nipples until they were hard and alert. “God, you’re so wet- I can feel you through your leggings, Al.”

“I need you.”

“’m right here,” Ashlyn answered. She dipped her hand into the front of Ali’s pants and underwear, slipping her fingers lower, but froze when she heard a creak outside of the door. “What are those fuckers doing?” she asked, her voice a hazy mix of lust and frustration.

Ali wound her fingers into Ashlyn’s hair, bucking her hips up towards her girlfriend’s fingers. “Don’t care. Please just touch me.”

This recaptured Ashlyn’s attention. “Stand up baby. Take off your leggings for me.” Ali did as she said, and Ashlyn groaned at how great she looked in nothing but a pink lace thong. She hurriedly shucked off her own jeans then pulled Ali back into her lap. She met her lips for another kiss and pulled her underwear to the side, anxious to put her fingers where Ali so desperately needed them. She eased first one, then a second inside, and Ali gave a loud moan. She put a hand on Ashlyn’s chest and pushed her to lay flat, using the incredible muscles of her thighs to ride Ashlyn’s fingers.

Ashlyn let her eyes fall shut, basking in the sensations, but then felt something hot splatter across her face. She opened her eyes to find Ali barely upright, one hand clutching at her throat, dark red blood spilling from between her fingers. She slumped forward, on top of Ashlyn, making her cry out. She pushed her girlfriend’s now limp body off of her and turned her head, catching only a quick glimpse of a tall, dark figure before with another swish of a knife, she too laid silent and still.

They heard a cry from upstairs, and they all looked towards the ceiling. “You’d think they would be quieter, knowing we’re down here,” Pinoe mused.

“Uh… I don’t think that was a sex noise,” Christen said slowly.

“Maybe not one of yours,” Pinoe said with a devilish grin.

“Do you think we should check on them?” Christen asked.

“Nose goes!” Kelley cried, pressing her finger to the end of her nose. “Not it.”

Tobin and Pinoe quickly did they same, and Christen rolled her eyes. She stood up, dusting off the butt of her jeans. “Jerks.”

Kelley waved a hand as Pinoe took another hit from the joint. “I’m sure it’s just sexy times, Chris. I seriously would not go up there I was you.”

“They’ve been up there for like, a long time though.”

Pinoe exhaled. “Aw Pressy. You obviously have only had sex with dudes before. This is not a long time at all.”

Christen’s face flushed red, and she chose not to answer, instead stalking up the stairs in a huff.

“I think you hurt her feelings, P,” Tobin said thoughtfully.

Pinoe waved a hand dismissively. “Never mind that, Tobs. When are you going to nut up and show our girl the pleasures of lesbian sex?”

Tobin’s shoulders tensed. “I don’t want to put her in an uncomfortable spot.”

Kelley stretched out on her stomach, propping her chin on her hand. “By what? Letting her experience multiple orgasms?”

She shrugged. “I just, sometimes I think she likes me, and then sometimes I think it’s all in my head. I can’t get a good read on her.” She sighed. “I don’t know, I think I’m just worried because I only moved here a few months ago, and I like hanging out with you guys. I don’t wanna fuck up the only friends I have in this town because I tried for it, y’know?”

Pinoe hummed. “Yeah, I get that.”

“Well I still vote that you ask her out. You’re cute, she’s cute, the end.”

Tobin leaned over, wrapping her arm around Kelley’s neck and giving her a noogie. “Aw you think I’m cute? Thanks dude!”

“Ugh get OFF of me,” Kelley whined.

A thump sounded from upstairs, making the three of them pause in the middle of their antics. Pinoe was the first to speak.

“Do… you think she was so shocked by seeing lesbian sex that she passed out?”

Kelley tried to laugh, but the truth was she had a gnawing feeling in the pit of her stomach that something wasn’t right. She shared a glance with Tobin, who seemed to feel the same way. She pushed back onto her knees. “Christen?” she called out, straining to hear a response. When none came, the feeling intensified. She got to her feet and started for the stairs, turning when she realized the other two hadn’t moved. “Come on!”

Tobin stood up but Pinoe merely rolled onto her back, looking at Kelley upside down. “No thanks. I’ve already caught those two fucking like rabbits before, I have no desire to do it again. And who knows, maybe they’re having a threesome up there.”

Kelley rolled her eyes. “C’mon Tobs.” They hurried up the stairs.

Kelley stopped at the first door and rapped on the door. “Kriegs? Ash? You decent?” When she didn’t hear anything she turned to Tobin. “I’ll check in here, you check the kids bedroom.”

Tobin gave her an incredulous look. “No fucking way! I’m not setting foot in that haunted ass room by myself!”

Kelley gave a huffy sigh. “Then check one of the other rooms.” Tobin groaned but turned, crossing the hallway. Kelley eased the door open and peeked inside. At first she didn’t notice anything amiss, but then she saw the giant dark stain in the middle of the room. Her breath caught hard in her throat. That definitely hadn’t been there when they came through earlier.

“Oh my god!” She turned at Tobin’s loud exclamation and dashed across the hallway, through the open door. It was a bathroom, all black and white tiles and cobwebs, and laying crumpled in the bathtub was none other than Christen Press.

Pinoe had fished her phone out of her pocket, shooting off a text to a cute girl that she had been messaging named Sue. She went to a different high school, but lately she had been consuming all of Pinoe’s spare time. She opened spotify and put on some music. She let her eyes fall closed, relaxing into the floor. Pot affected everyone differently but it really just made Pinoe want to nap.

And snack.

Her eyes popped open, her body instantly ravenous at the thought. She hauled herself to her feet and padded back into the kitchen. Once there, looking at the dilapidated cabinets and electricity-less refrigerator, she came to the grumbling realization that there would be nothing of sustenance in there.

She sighed, turning back to go to the living room, but as she stepped past the dining room, she suddenly became aware of a large, hulking shape blocking a set of stairs she hadn’t noticed earlier.

“Wha…” she asked, before her mind fully caught up to what she was seeing. Then the shape lunged towards her and she sprinted back towards the living room.

“Christen!” Kelley cried, pushing past Tobin and dropping to her knees beside the bathtub. She reached out a hand for Christen’s neck, holding her breath until she finally felt a pulse. “Oh thank fuck. Chris!” She patted her on the cheek, trying to bring her round. “Chris wake up!”

Her best friend groaned and then her eyes fluttered open. “Kel?” she ground out.

“What happened? Did you fall or what?”

“No, I… was walking, looking… and I came in here to look and then I turned around and he… he hit me.” She brought a hand up to the side of her head and winced, pulling it back to find blood on her fingertips.

“He? He who?” Tobin asked. Christen could only shrug, grimacing at the movement. “Well what about Ali and Ashlyn?”

Kelley swallowed thickly. “The bedroom is covered in blood. I don’t… I think he already found them.”

“Oh god, oh god what do we do?” Tobin asked, sitting on the toilet and running her fingers through her hair.

“C’mon Chris, on your feet.” Kelley helped her stand up, letting her lean against her. “We have to get out of here,” she said firmly.

“How?” Tobin asked, panic beginning to color her voice. “We’re apparently trapped in a house with a psycho! It’s him versus us and-” She cut off suddenly, the blood draining from her face.

“What?”

“Pinoe.”

“Oh shit.”

“Hm?” Christen seemed to be struggling to keep her eyes open.

“She’s downstairs, she doesn’t know!”

“Relax! He must be up here, we didn’t see him on the stairs when we came up, and it’s the only way down.

“No,” Christen adjusted her grip around Kelley’s neck. “There’s a maid’s staircase remember? It runs up to the attic, that’s how the mom killed herself.”

Kelley turned to Tobin, ready to tell her to run downstairs and get Pinoe, when an unearthly scream echoed up the stairs.

Kelley clutched Christen nearer. “What are we going to do?”

She watched as Tobin pressed her hands against her forehead, trying to think. “We have to get downstairs. We’re sitting ducks here.”

“How?” Another scream from downstairs made them flinch.

Tobin took a deep breath. “I… I’ll go down the main stairs. I’ll help Pinoe if I can, and either way I’ll be loud and make a big distraction. You and Chris go down the back stairs, and you get her out through the back door.”

Kelley grabbed her wrist with her free hand. “But you’ll be alone.”

Tobin gave her a smile that looked very forced and very scared. “I’ll be fine.”

Kelley readjusted her grip on Christen and followed Tobin out of the bathroom. In the hallway, they met each other’s eyes and nodded once, then headed in opposite directions.

Kelley tried to keep her footsteps light, but she felt like she was practically dragging Christen. As she reached the narrow staircase, Christen groaned.

“We’re almost there,” Kelley assured her through panting breaths. “We’ll be out in just a few seconds.” But then Christen pitched forward, nearly tumbling from Kelley’s grip as she vomited onto the stairs leading to the lower level.

Fuck.

There was no way they could go down now. One wrong step and Kelley would slip on Christen’s puke and send them both careening downwards. She glanced upwards, remembering what Christen had said about the attic. If they couldn’t run, they would just have to hide.

She pulled Christen so that her arms were wrapped around her neck in some sort of half hearted piggy back ride. She began the painstaking process of moving them both up the stairs, doing her best to make as little noise as possible while also ignoring the crashes coming from below. Step by step they climbed, until finally Kelley was able to heave them onto the attic floor.

Straightening up, she found a long narrow room with windows set into the sloped roof. Similar to the children’s room downstairs, there were several single beds with metal headboards. It was obvious, however, just by looking at the decades old posters and decorations, that this room had housed older children, perhaps all of the Daniels’ older boys. It was also obvious, by the unmade bed and collection of items near it, that someone had been staying in this room recently.

She moved Christen to the far end of the room, settling her on one of the made up beds. “Alright. Everything is going to be alright, I promise.”

Christen turned her head, and Kelley could tell by the smear of blood on the pillow that she was still bleeding. She began to search through the drawers of a nearby dresser, looking for anything to staunch the bleeding. She finally unearthed a few handkerchiefs from among the socks and underwear. She then grabbed a pair of pajama pants and used a nail in the wall to tear them into strips. She carefully used the supplies to bandage Christen’s head, hoping against hope that this would work until she could get Christen actual medical attention.

There was a loud creak behind her, and she whirled around. 

A tall, pale man was standing in the doorway, blocking their retreat downstairs. She could see his general state of unwash, could smell him even from across the room.

She could also see the blood staining his clothes.

He took a step forward and so did she, throwing both arms out. “Don’t come any closer!”

He glared at her. “You shouldn’t have come here.”

“We didn’t… we didn’t know anyone was in here. The house is supposed to be abandoned, it has been for years! We didn’t mean, you didn’t have to hurt anyone!”

He didn’t waver. “You came in my house.”

Her temper flared up. “It’s not your house just because you broke in first!”

He narrowed his eyes at her. “It’s my house! It’s my family’s house!” he barked.

Comprehension flooded through her. “You… You’re one of the Daniels.”

He gave a nasty grin. “Curtis. Number twelve of thirteen. But you already know all of the details, don’t you?” She realized he must have listened to Ash recount the scary story, listened to them laugh about the worst moment of his entire life.

“Please…” She licked at her lips. “Please, my friend is hurt. She needs a doctor. No one else needs to die.”

He was staring at her, but she wasn’t for certain he was actually seeing her. “Needs to die… Needs to die…”

_Crack._

He pitched forward, grabbing at the back of his head. He turned and they both caught sight of Tobin, holding what appeared to be a leg of one of the dining room chairs. He staggered to the side, and Tobin squared up getting ready to hit him again. He let out a bellow, grabbing a picture frame off of the bookcase and hurling at her, forcing her to knock it away in some sort of bizarre game of baseball. Then he lunged towards her and Tobin brought it down as hard as she could on his shoulder.

The blow made him stagger to the side, bracing himself on the windowsill. Tobin darted forward, landing a shove to his back, and for one glorious moment, Kelley thought their nightmare was over. But as he began to fall backwards through the window, he twisted around, his hand shooting out to wrap around Tobin’s wrist. Kelley ran forward, but there was no way she could get there in time. Instead she watched as both Tobin and the man crashed through the window.

She slowly walked to where they had fallen through. She peered down at the ground, just able to make out the two bodies now laying at the foot of the house. Her entire body was shaking, unable to process the events of the night.

She made her way back to Christen, helping her to her feet and then they slowly began to stumble down the stairs. It wasn’t until they were back in the living room that Kelley was certain of Pinoe’s fate.

She’d never seen so much blood in one place.

It was also in the living room that she saw Pinoe’s phone. With her own in her bag in Ashlyn’s Bronco, she picked it up, taking it with her as she and Christen hobbled out of the back door. They sat on the back steps and she dialed 911, bringing it to her ear.

“911, what’s your emergency?”

“I… we didn’t know he was here. And there’s so much blood. And my friend… we need an ambulance. Please hurry. The Daniels house on country road 10. Please…”

“The ambulance is on their way, are you hurt? Can you tell me who all is there? Can you…” Kelley let the phone fall away from her ear as the tears began to stream down her face. She pulled Christen closer.

“Kel? Head hurts…” Christen mumbled.

“I know,” Kelley said numbly. Sirens began to sound, coming closer. “I know.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tumblr: @thetheatrelady


	24. The Wind Between the Branches

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There’s nothing in the forest but her and Ash, her and Ash and the wind howling between the branches of the trees... right?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Wind Between the Branches  
> Pairing: Krashlyn  
> Genre: Horror  
> Rating: T  
> TW: none

_“Ohhhhh I wanna dance with somebody! I wanna feel the heat with somebody!”_ Whitney Houston’s voice felt too bright for the current atmosphere of their car. Ali leaned her head against the window, watching the rain roll down the glass.

“You can just change the song. You don’t have to sit over there and sigh about it.”

She turned to look at her fiancée. “Are you sure? I mean I wouldn’t want to come off as controlling.”

Ashlyn’s grasp tightened on the steering wheel. “Ali…”

“What?”

“It will be faster to go this way!”

“I’m just saying that it would have been worth it spend forty five extra minutes on the road, knowing that said road would be well marked and have towns to stop in!” She threw her hands up. “But no, what could I possibly know? I’m only the one who grew up in this area.”

“You know what, Al, why don’t you just go to sleep? I’m tired of fighting about this with you. I’ll wake you up when we get to UNC.”

Ali opened her mouth to say something but then thought better of it. “Fine,” she huffed. She grabbed her coat from the back and arranged it over her like a blanket, leaning her head against the window again.

She tried to take a deep breath and chill out. It hadn’t been Ashlyn’s fault that work had kept her late, delaying them leaving Washington so that they left right as traffic was picking up. Ashlyn had offered to drive the whole way as an apology, but then had refused to take the route the GPS suggested, launching them into another argument. The whole thing was dumb, but by this point everything had been blown out of proportion and Ali wasn’t quite in the mood to apologize. It wasn’t helping matters that they were going to Ashlyn’s alma matter, where Ali would meet all of her college friends for the first time, and was feeling particularly stressed about making a good impression. But what good impression would she make by them arriving at nearly two in the morning?

She was in a shitty mood. Maybe Ashlyn was right, she should try to take a nap and reset before they got there. She forced her eyes shut and consciously relaxed her shoulders, trying to go to sleep.

She was awoken some time later by the car giving an awful lurch, her head smacking hard into the window. Ashlyn cursed from the driver seat and then the car slammed to a stop, sending Ali forward, held in her seat by her seatbelt

“Wha…” Ali couldn’t see anything on the road ahead of them, just the rain hitting the pavement and the blurred trees to each side. “What’s going on?”

“Shit!” Ashlyn looked over at her. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to… I think we popped a tire.”

Ali silenced a sigh. “Oh god. Okay. Uh…”

Ashlyn peered out the windshield. “Should I get out and mess with it? Or do you think it’ll stop raining soon?”

“Um…” Ali pulled out her phone to check the weather. “It’s supposed to stop within the hour. But also…” she swallowed down an ‘I told you so’, “There’s no service. So we can’t call a tow truck.”

Ashlyn gave her a clearly annoyed look. “We don’t need a tow truck. Once it stops raining, I’ll get out and change the tire and we’ll be back on our way.”

She held up her hands. “Okay! Whatever you say.”

They stared out opposite windows, both unsure of what to say without pissing the other one off. Finally, Ashlyn reached a hand across the console. “I’m sorry, Al. We… you were right. We should have stayed on the main roads. I was just… excited to get there and introduce you to everyone. I know that they’re going to love you, and… well, I should have listened to you.”

Ali took her hand, squeezing it. “It’s fine, baby. I shouldn’t have been so grouchy about the whole thing.”

They shared a soft kiss, then Ashlyn turned to look outside. “The rain’s stopped.”

“Oh good.”

Ashlyn gave her another kiss. “I’ll get out and change the tire, I’ll have us back on the road in no time. And I promise, when we get to the next town, we can grab something to eat and type it into the GPS. Okay?”

“Sounds like a plan.”

Ashlyn climbed out and Ali pulled out her phone, turning airplane mode on and off in the hopes of catching a slight signal.

“Fuck!” She turned in her seat to see Ashlyn standing with her hands on top of her head. She pushed open her door and got out of the car.

“What is it? What’s wrong?”

Ashlyn turned and gave her an incredulous look. “How… how many times have I told you to take your car into the shop for regular inspections?”

“I have!” Ali said defensively.

“Oh really? And they never suggested that you might want to replace your spare tire?”

“No? It’s never been used!”

Ashlyn shook her head. “And that’s great and everything but this tire has a hole in it.”

“What? How?”

“I don’t know! Maybe from sitting in the back of your car for a decade!”

“Well what does that mean?”

“It means that I can’t put the spare on. And the other tire is shredded. So what it really means is that we’re fucked!”

“But… can’t we drive on the rim?”

Ashlyn scrubbed her hands down her face. “It’s possible but it’s not good for the car. Not to mention, illegal.”

“Well then… what are we going to do?”

“I don’t know, Ali.”

She turned on the spot, looking all around them. Surely there was something to be done. There had to be something they weren’t considering. There had to be… “There.”

Ashlyn turned to look where she was pointing. “What?”

Ali pulled her closer to where she was standing, so that she could see distant light through the trees. “There must be a house off the road. At the very least they’ll probably let us use their phone to call AAA to come and get us.”

Ashlyn stared apprehensively into the woods. “I don’t know, Al…”

“I mean, what’s our other option? Sit here in the car until someone comes along? Hope they don’t hit us?”

“We don’t know what kind of people live in that house.”

Ali sighed. “Well we have to do something.” The wind picked up and she shivered, wishing she had grabbed her coat when she was getting out of the car.

Ashlyn looked up and down the road a few times, as if hoping that a car would appear. “Okay. Okay fine.”

They both grabbed their coats, along with Ali’s purse, then locked the doors and set off into the woods.

The ground beneath them was saturated with rain, the mud pulling at their shoes. The light of Ashlyn’s phone shined off of the wet leaves littering the ground, a beautiful mess of red, orange, and yellow. Ali used one hand to brace herself on trees as they walked, the other pulling her coat close against the chill.

Ashlyn took a deep breath. “Did I ever tell you about me and Tobs getting kicked out of a sports bar junior year?”

Ali looked at her. “No?”

Ashlyn laughed. “We were such dumbasses. I’d turned twenty one and she hadn’t but she had one of her sister’s old IDs. The Dolphins had somehow made it into the playoffs, and they were playing the Panthers. They eked out this incredible fourth quarter victory, truly legendary stuff, and everyone in the bar was super pissed. And I of course had been drinking the whole game so I was trashed and I started running my mouth, rubbing the win in their faces, just being an all around dick. And Tobin of course couldn’t give less of a shit about the Dolphins, but she was chiming in, egging me on. Then this massive dude stands up and starts giving it back to me. And we’re both drunk and yelling and he ends up pushing me into the table. And the bouncer is on his way to clear it up but Tobin comes out of nowhere and _wham,_ punches him square in the Adam’s apple.”

“Wait really?”

Ashlyn nodded, a wide grin on her face. “Oh yeah. And keep in mind, this guy has a few inches on me, so he easily has half a foot on her. But she nearly took him to the floor. Needless to say, we quickly paid our tab and got the hell out, not wanting to get the police involved.”

Ali laughed. “Oh my god. See, stories like that make me wish I wouldn’t have been such a boring, basic bitch in college. All I did was go to class, study, and hang out at my boyfriend’s gross apartment.”

“Gross.”

“Tell me about it.” She looked up to check their progress towards the house and was confused to no longer see a light. “Uhh… Ash?”

“Yeah?”

“Where did the light go?”

“What do you mean? It’s right…” She began to spin on the spot. “Well…”

“Did we somehow get off course?”

“No, we were headed right for it.” Ashlyn shone her phone around. “Maybe… Maybe it was a porch light and they turned it off?”

“Maybe…” Uneasiness began to creep into Ali’s stomach, despite this being her idea. “So… do we just keep going?”

“Yeah… yeah I think so.” But Ashlyn sounded like she was trying to convince herself. “We’ll just keep heading this direction and eventually we’ll hit whatever it was.

“Right.” The two lapsed into silence, too busy looking for any sign of the light to keep up a conversation. It felt like they had been walking for hours. She was about to suggest they stop and regroup when suddenly Ashlyn gave a sharp yell and pitched forward, both her and the phone’s light disappearing from sight.

“Ash? Ashlyn!” Ali took out her own phone and moved cautiously forward. She found that they had stumbled onto the bank of a river bed, and Ashlyn had unknowingly walked right over the edge. The light of her phone just barely showed Ashlyn sprawled towards the bottom. Ali carefully scrambled down the steep embankment, holding onto roots and rocks to keep from slipping.

“Ash are you okay?” By the time she reached the ground, Ashlyn had found her way to sitting, holding one arm close to her chest. She gave a groan.

“I didn’t see the drop off.”

“I know, it came out of nowhere. Are you hurt?”

She nodded, grimacing with pain. “My shoulder. I think it’s dislocated. Or maybe torn. And I hit my head on a rock.”

Ali shined her light on her fiancée’s familiar face, running her fingers gently over the gash on her cheek. “Doesn’t look to deep, so that’s good.”

“Yeah.”

“Where’s your phone?”

She shook her head. “Dunno. It flew out of my hand as I rolled down.” Ali began to search nearby, and saw it laying facedown in the mud near the river. She breathed a sigh of relief that it hadn’t been lost to the water, but when she picked it up she was disheartened to see that it had been shattered.

“Well… hopefully they have an AT&T in Durham,” she tried to joke.

“Fuck, what are we going to do?”

Ali licked at her lips. “It’s going to be fine. We… we’ll go back to the car. We can sleep there and tomorrow someone will come along and let us borrow their phone.” She offered Ashlyn her hand, and helped her stand up, being careful with her hurt arm.

“Do you think we can make it back?”

“Yeah,” Ali said with confidence she didn’t feel. “Once we climb up out of here, we can just follow our own tracks. Nothing to it.”

“But…” Ashlyn gazed at the embankment. “How will I get up there with only one arm?”

“We’ll figure it out, c’mon.” And they did, Ashe climbing ahead with Ali below her to give her a push when needed. They made it to the top, but by then they were both exhausted.

“Alright, baby. It’s going to be just fine. We’ll be fine.” Her phone vibrated in her hand, and she turned it over to see that it had just 10% battery life. She turned it back over, not telling Ashlyn. “We’ll be just fine.”

The wind had really kicked up by this point, whipping their hair into their face and seeming to wail as it blew threw the branches. Ali held tightly to Ashlyn’s hand, her eyes fixed on the muddy ground in front of them. _Just follow the footprints,_ she assured herself. _The footprints will lead you to the car. We’re the only ones in the woods, so we are the only things that made footprints._ Another ungodly shriek from the wind made her shiver. _We’re the only ones in the woods,_ she repeated to herself fiercely.

And then, the phone turned off. She pressed frantically on the home button, but to no avail. Her phone was dead. Ashlyn’s was broken. They were alone, in the woods, in the dark. It was like the final piece of puzzle falling into place, and she let out a shuddery exhale, fulling accepting how bad of a situation this was.

“Al?” Ashlyn asked hoarsely.

She turned, reaching out blindly for her in the near pitch black darkness. “I’m here.”

“Your phone?”

“Dead.”

“Fuck.” Her voice was quiet, resigned. Ali stepped closer, leaning their foreheads against each other. “What do we do now?”

“I don’t know.” Ali admitted. “I don’t… I don’t know that we should keep walking. With a flashlight we could end up walking deeper into the forest. Not to mention, I don’t want one of us to fall again.”

“So we just stay?” Ashlyn sounded close to tears and Ali stroked the back of her neck.

“The last time I checked my phone it was like three am. So the sun should be rising at, what, six? Seven? As soon as there’s light then we can keep following our footsteps. So we’ll find a little patch of grass and hunker down for a few hours. We can do that, right?”

Ashlyn sighed. “Yeah. We can.”

They clumsily sat down next to a tree, Ashlyn laying down and placing her head in Ali’s lap. Ali leaned against the trunk, ignoring the way the rough bark pulled at her hair. They could do this. This was fine. Jus four hours and they would get up and keep walking.

Even with her exhausted body and drooping eyelids, she had a hard time falling asleep. She could hear Ashlyn’s soft snores from her lap but she couldn’t shake the feeling of doom spreading through her chest and stomach.

The wind between the branches seemed to be calling to her. It carried a hint of warning, like something was watching, waiting for her to fall asleep so that it could gobble her up. She squinted, trying to see something, anything in the darkness, but it proved fruitless. Finally, she couldn’t force herself to stay up any longer and her eyes drifted closed, unable to heed the warning of the wind any longer.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tumblr: @thetheatrelady


	25. The Cauldron

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When one of your friends is heartbroken, it's your duty to take her out for a drink. And if you happen upon a cute girl in the process? Even better.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Cauldron  
> Pairing: Preath  
> Genre: Fluff  
> Rating: T  
> TW: none

Sonny held open the door to The Cauldron and grinned at Tobin. “C’mon. Baby steps. You’re doing so good. We’re so proud.”

Tobin didn’t crack a smile. “I want to go home.”

Sinc rolled her eyes and stepped around her. “Stop your bitching and c’mon, I want a beer.”

“I thought Canadians were supposed to be nice?”

Sinc gave her a look as she stepped into the pub. “We’ve put up with your moping ass for a week now. This is me being nice.”

Tobin sighed. “Look: you guys head in and have a nice night. I’m just going to head to the studio, keep working on my piece-” She had taken a step backwards, intent on making a quick retreat, but had forgotten about the fourth member of their little group. She bumped into Lindsey and immediately felt her grab her by the shoulders.

“Tobin. Get your ass in the pub. Don’t make me carry you.”

And thus Tobin was steered inside, past the crowded tables of raucous men laughing and cheering at a rugby match on tv. She was sandwiched into a booth and Sonnett bounded off to grab them a round of drinks.

Blessed was the word that had come to mind when Tobin landed a place in a study abroad program in London. It would be an incredible opportunity to hone her skills as an artist, not to mention spend time studying pieces in places like the Louvre and the National Gallery. She’d been placed in a tiny flat with three other study abroad students: Christine Sinclair, a no nonsense archeology student from Canada, Emily Sonnett, who had travelled all the way from UVA to study child psychology, and Lindsey Horan, who seemed to be learning more about the human condition and natural politics from the English pubs and nightclubs than any lecture hall. They got along great, and Tobin had greatly enjoyed the couple of months they’d lived together. She’d enjoyed everything about London, actually. She felt like she was really growing in her classes and was getting great feedback from her professors. And then her figure drawing class had brought in a new model.

Tobin had first fallen for Shirley in a purely physical sense. When she’d dropped her robe and revealed her tan skin and perfectly sculpted muscles, Tobin had nearly fallen off of her stool. It had been incredibly tough not to let her mind wander as she sketched, her fingers sweating and smearing the charcoal across her sketchbook. But on the last day Shirley modeled for the class, Tobin had finally bolstered up enough courage to approach her and ask her out for coffee. The other woman had smiled coyly and asked if they could go out for drinks instead.

And thus started the first great romance of Tobin’s life. She’d had crushes before. She’d had a few stolen moments in high school, and even a sorta kinda girlfriend at UNC. But Tobin found herself smitten nearly to the point of obsession when it came to Shirley. She could have spent years with her head in Costa Rican’s lap, listening to her talk of home, talk of her classes, talk of the future. It was foolish, but Tobin had let herself imagine the Shirley’s future could be their future. Maybe she could apply to transfer over here permanently. They could get a flat of their own, and play footy on the weekends, and Shirley could teach her how to make margaritas just the way she liked. They could be happy together. Tobin thought this must be what love was.

And then Shirley had gotten out of her bed one night, as the sweat still cooled on Tobin’s skin, and smiled sadly. She picked up her shirt from the ground and told Tobin that this, whatever this was, had run its course. England was growing too cold for her liking so she was heading south. She thought maybe Spain or Italy, maybe even Morocco, but either way, Tobin wasn’t invited.

She was embarrassed of how she had immediately began to cry. She asked what she had done wrong, what could do better, and Shirley had just shook her head. Nothing was wrong, it was just time for her to leave.

That had been a week ago, and Tobin was still feeling heartbroken. She had really thought that she and Shirley had shared something. Surely it wasn’t possible to have that kind of connection, hell, to have that kind of sex, with someone who wasn’t meant to be in your life.

Her flatmates had been very understanding at first, but now they were understandably tiring of listening as Tobin played sad music on repeat in her room and pretending not to hear her cry in the shower. Sinc had decided that the best way to snap her out of this depression was to get her out of her room and back around people. She would find someone else and realize that the world didn’t rise and set by an admittedly beautiful girl from Costa Rica.

Sonny slid a glass in front of her. “’Ere ya go, govna!” she said loudly. “A propa pint!” She dissolved into giggles at her own awful British accent, and Lindsey rolled her eyes, trying to smother her own fond grin.

“Oh god. Hurry Tobin, before she goes full Cockney.”

Sinc raised her glass and the other three did the same. “To getting out of the house. To finding a different Mona Lisa to pine after.”

Tobin gave a huffy sigh and took a drink of her beer. Why couldn’t they understand that what she’d had with Shirley was special?

“Okay, let’s take a look…” Lindsey began to peer around the crowded pub. “Hm. Maybe we should have gone to a gay bar. Too many straight dudes.”

“The world has too many straight dudes,” Emily muttered.

“What about her?” Sinc tipped her head towards a brunette sitting in a booth across the way. “Big dyke energy there.”

Lindsey gave her a look. “Are you allowed to say that?”

Sinc shrugged. “Am I wrong?”

Sonnett glanced over at her. “You’re not. Especially since her girlfriend just sat down next to her.” They watched as she gave the other woman a gentle peck on the lips. “But anyway, she’s definitely not Tobin’s type. She likes pretty girls.”

Sinc wrinkled her nose. “That girl’s attractive.”

Sonnett shrugged. “Yeah but like you said, in a high key gay way. I bet Tobin would be better off with someone like…” She scanned the pub and Tobin scoffed.

“I’m sitting right here, you know.”

“Her!” Sonnett pointed to a petite blonde with a cute button nose. “Thoughts, Toby?”

“Don’t call me Toby.” She had to admit that Sonny was admittedly right. The girl was very cute, and if she wasn’t so mired in her own feelings, she might have been interested.

“I’ll go do recon.” Lindsey slid from the booth and crossed to the girl in just a few strides.

Tobin groaned and dropped her head into her hands. “This is pointless,” she whined. “Let’s just drink these and leave.”

“No! I’m sick of the moping! You only knew her for a month, we need to get her out of your system. The best way to do that is by sending you headfirst into someone else.”

“Thanks for that visual,” Tobin grimaced.

“Okay!” Lindsey sat back down. “Her name is Rachel. She’s from somewhere called Harrogate. She likes red wines, and she thinks Tobin is hot and is down to fuck.”

“Great job, Horan!” Sinc gave her a high five. “Alright, Tobs. Hop to it.”

Tobin sighed. “Guys I just think I need-”

“Time to process, blah blah, we’ve already heard it. Tobin in December you’re going to be headed back to UNC. Do you really want to tell your friends there that your semester abroad sucked because you spent the whole time crying over a girl?”

“It’s not that easy!”

“It absolutely is! Watch this:” Lindsey seemingly reached her arm into the crowd and came back with a guy in tow. “Wanna buy me a drink?”

The guy blinked at her. “Uh… right. Yeah.”

She smiled. “Great.” She stood up from the table and gave Tobin a look. “Get laid, Tobin, It’ll make you feel better.” She drained the last of her beer and walked to the bar, the guy following dumbly behind.

“God to have that kind of confidence.” Sonny shook her head.

“I think it helps to have those kind of legs,” Sinc replied. She also finished her beer. “I’m going home to work on homework. The door will be deadbolted, so don’t try to follow me.” She left without another word, leaving just Tobin and Sonnett.

“Are you going to buy that girl a drink?”

Tobin shook her head. “Nah. She’s all yours.”

Emily’s shoulders tensed. “What? No, I uh-”

“Sonny. Go buy her a glass of red wine.”

She blushed and clumsily got up from the table. “Right. Um… right.” Tobin watched as she crossed to the blonde’s table and sat down. She sighed. She appreciated what they had been trying to do for her, but this was for the best. She just needed some time to nurse her bruised heart.

“Can I take these glasses?”

She glanced up and was taken aback. “What… Are you a lobster?”

The costumed girl sighed. “I didn’t realize that Halloween wasn’t a big deal over here, I thought everyone would be in costume. And to be fair, the costume is better when I have my dogs with me, they have matching costumes.”

A smile tugged on the corners of Tobin’s lips. “You dress you dogs up for Halloween?”

“Well duh!” The girl dropped into the seat opposite Tobin and pulled the hood of her costume down, letting Tobin get a good look at her for the first time, and her breath caught in her throat.

_Mona Lisa eat your heart out._

She was stunning. Her long dark hair fell in curls around her face, framing delicate high cheekbones set beneath the most stunning green eyes Tobin had ever seen, green like peridot, green like the water of the ocean as it laps at the sandy shore of New Jersey. Her perfect pink lips pulled back to reveal perfect, white teeth.

Tobin realized that the girl had said something while Tobin gawked helplessly. “Sorry… what?”

The girl smiled. “I asked where you’re from. I can tell by your accent that you’re American.”

“Uh… Jersey. You’re not from here either.”

“Nope, California. I’m here studying at Oxford.”

“Wow,” Tobin said dumbly. “Oxford.”

“Yeah. Medicine.”

“Wow,” she repeated, apparently unable to think of any other words. “Uh… wait. How are you working here then, if you’re on a student visa?”

The girl gave a sheepish smile. “I’m working under the table. Are you gonna tell on me?”

“That depends.” The words lefts Tobin’s lips before she knew what she was saying.

She raised an eyebrow. “Oh? Depends on what?”

“What’s your name?”

She smiled. “Christen. Christen Press.”

“Christen… I’m Tobin Heath.” She extended her hand and Christen took it, both of them holding on just a little too long. “So… why don't you just take the lobster costume off?"

She laughed. "Well, because I very stupidly didn't wear anything underneath it."

Tobin tried very hard to ignore both the red hot blush on her cheeks and the images her brain was supplying her with. She cleared her throat. "Christen… can I buy you a drink?”

She raised an eyebrow. “At the pub I work at? No.” Tobin barely had a chance to register the sting of disappointment before Christen was leaning across the table. “But my shift is almost up. And then maybe we can go somewhere else?”

Tobin gave her a wide, toothy grin. “Yeah. Yeah that sounds great.”

“Awesome,” Christen smiled. “And I’ll bring you another drink while you wait.”

“Okay.”

Christen stood up from the table, continuing to collect empty glasses and bottles as she made her way to the bar. Tobin let her eyes follow the swing of her hips. Her hands gave a slight twitch, but whether it was to hold a piece of charcoal to draw the magnificent creature she’d just met or to grab a handful of that incredible ass, she wasn’t sure.

She swallowed and ran a hand threw her hair, trying to calm her suddenly overheated body. “Here you go.” Christen placed the beer in front of her.

“Wow. That was a quick.”

“What can I say? The Cauldron prides itself on impeccable customer service.” She leaned in slightly. “And so do I.” She gave Tobin a little wink and glided off to the next table. Tobin couldn’t help but laugh.

She couldn’t help but feel like a night out at The Cauldron had just changed her life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tumblr: @thetheatrelady


	26. The Darkness

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> as Nietzsche said, "And if thou gaze long into an abyss, the abyss will also gaze into thee."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Darkness  
> Pairing: NA  
> Genre: Horror  
> Rating: T  
> TW: Illness, Claustrophobia, Being Buried Alive
> 
> *Seriously, if you have problems with any of these issues, I highly recommend you skip this one***

It was unseasonably cold in St Louis, but Rebecca Elizabeth Saurbrunn was hot. Her skin itched with it, her lips parched and cracking. But still, as her body trembled and ached, her mother piled on more blankets, kept stoking the fire until the room was stifling.

“Please,” she begged. “I’m so hot. If I could just… get some air.”

“My darling Becky,” her mother murmured, stroking her damp hair back from her forehead. “We have to sweat out the fever. It’s the only way you’ll get well.”

“Please, Mama…” Her eyes pricked with tears, and she turned her head, embarrassed that she should be crying as a grown woman.

“I know, my love. I know.”

“I’m scared,” Becky admitted in a whisper.

“I know. But the Lord will protect thee. He looks after his flock. We must keep praying and abiding by the doctor’s orders.”

Her brother had been sick first, confined to his bed with a fever for a few days before regaining his strength and going about his business. So when Becky had woken up weak and shaking, they had assumed she would do the same. However, the fever lingered, seeming to nestle inside of her bones, threatening to shake her apart from the inside.

Then the coughing came. It burned her throat, her chest. It stained her handkerchiefs red, and it was only a matter of time before the doctor had sadly shaken his head, confirming their worst fears: consumption. All they could do was try and treat the fever, hoping it would go away.

“I’m hungry,” Becky said.

“I’ll bring you some broth.”

“No, please I need more-” But her mother had already swept from the room, leaving her to roast in silence. Her mother was a purist when it came to illness, sticking to the old prescription of ‘feed a cold, starve a fever.’ Becky hadn’t had anything more substantial than soup and broth for nearly a week, and she suspected this was only contributing to the weakness. She could feel the way her body was shrinking, her bones becoming more prominent in her face and hands. When her mother would help her to the basin to wash, she would sometimes catch a glimpse of herself in the mirror and she hardly recognized the skeletal woman in the mirror.

She stared up at the ceiling, contemplating her fate. Was this how she was meant to pass? Sweating and starving, coughing up blood until her body finally gave out? The thought made her shudder. She’d always imagined being old, surrounded by her great love and her children and grandchildren. She didn’t want to pass at just twenty, nothing but a sad tragedy for her family.

Her mother came back in and began to spoon the broth to her lips. Becky was so hungry that she slurped at the liquid, wanting every last bit. When it was gone, she raised her eyes.

“Please. Some meat, or even some porridge, I’m so-”

Her mother placed a finger against her lips. “Rebecca, please. You know I can’t, don’t make this more difficult.”

She tried to respond but her body was overtaken by a coughing fit, so much so that her mother had to help her roll over onto her side, hitting her back in an attempt to help. She coughed and coughed until eventually she began to gag, getting sick all over the bed and her nightgown.

“Oh Becky,” her mother gasped tearfully. She pushed back the mountains of blankets helped her heave her frail body from the bed. She was able to take a few shuffling steps before the lightheadedness consumed her body, her vision fading. She pitched forward, and felt a sharp pain in her temple as it struck the bedpost. Then, everything went black.

X

When she next opened her eyes, everything was still black. _It must be night_ , she thought groggily. _The fire must have died, that’s also why it’s so cool._ She wasn’t upset at the lack of blazing heat, in fact it felt rather nice. She knew that she should bask in it while she could, her mother would be in at any minute to rekindle the blaze. She went to turn over and that’s when she realized that something was very, very wrong.

There was… something on top of her. Not touching her, but instead suspended a few inches in front of her. Her stomach dropped as she considered that maybe she had, in fact, died. Perhaps this lightless, sightless waiting was the reality of purgatory. Was this how she would spend the countless years until the rapture? Was this to be her home until the second coming?

She stretched out a hand and touched the surface. It was hard, wooden. Not smoother and polished like a table top, but rather a bit rough, like on the country carriage she and some friends had taken out for a fall hay ride a few years back. She spread her hands to the sides, expecting it to go on and on, but instead found it met two boards perpendicularly, forming a tight right corner. Exploring further, her shaking hands found that those boards met the surface that she way lying on. Above her, another flat surface. She wiggled down only for her feet to come into contact with more wood.

Her heart began to pound. She was in a box. Someone had placed her in a box.

 _No,_ she realized with a sinking feeling of utmost dread.

Someone had placed her in a coffin.

She immediately began to beat against the lid. She must surely still be in the mortuary’s office. Someone would hear her, they would realize what a horrible mistake that had been made and then they would get her out.

“Let me out!” she called. “Mama? Pa? Please!” She hit the lid harder. “Grant? Adam?! If this is you idea of teasing, I don’t find it funny, not in the least!” She paused her beating to listen, but she was met with nothing but silence. Silence pressing in on her from all sides, just like the darkness. “Please, someone! Let me out! Let me out!”

Somewhere ahead of her, above her, she heard the sharp howl of a coyote, and she let out a terrified gasp.

She wasn’t in the mortuary. She was in the ground.

No one was coming. She had to get herself out. She began to beat furiously once more, kicking at the lid. However, her body was weak from days of nothing but broth, and after just a few minutes she was forced to rest, out of breath.

Tears began to run down her cheeks as the direness of the situation began to truly sink in. This was it. If she couldn’t somehow get her self out of her, she would surely die, no one being any wiser.

“Our father,” she began in a shaky voice, “who art in heaven, hallowed be thy name…” the tears increased and then she was sobbing too hard to continue. This was only made worse when she began to cough, turning her head in an attempt to make it easier to clear her throat. She felt something hot and wet dribble out of her mouth, mixing with her tears, and knew it was more blood.

“My God,” she cried, scratching fruitlessly at the lid and the sides. “This can’t be it! Please! I can’t die like this.” The same coolness that had been such a relief when she was coming to, now seemed to be creeping up her legs, making her shake and shiver. She found herself miserably wanting for the fire in her bedroom, for the piles of blankets her mother had tucked around her. How foolish she had been, to hate them, to feel like they were pinning her in place, when all along this had been in her future.

She sucked in a breath to try and calm herself, but then was struck by a horrifying thought. If this was truly happening, if she had been buried alive, then her greatest fear shouldn’t be the cold or the gnawing hunger in her stomach. It shouldn’t be the oppressive dark, pushing against her eyes as they strained to see. It shouldn’t even be the weight of the earth on top of her, threatening to crush her. No. Her greatest threat was the cold, icy fingers of asphyxiation, wrapping around her nose and mouth as the air in the coffin slowly began to run out.

This realization, of course, made her begin to panic even more, made her want to draw in lungfuls of air if only to prove to herself she still could. She brought her shaking hands to her face and pressed them to her lips, holding them closed and forcing herself to breath slowly in and out through her nose.

She had no way to count the time, to know just how long she had been awake, or how long she had been buried prior to that. She began to search her mind for any kind of distraction. She began to sing hymns in her mind, trying to remember bits of scripture or recall her favorite poems. After a while of this, she actually found herself calming, a peaceful, almost happy feeling coming over her. Her skin began to tingle in a pleasant way, reminding her of going swimming when she was a young girl, the way the cool water had supported her and cradled, her making her feel weightless in its embrace.

She was so caught up in the feeling that she almost didn’t realize the dizziness creeping in. But once she did, the euphoria dropped away, and she was left only with the horrifying feeling of spinning, down, down, down, down, into an endless abyss, with nothing to catch her, nothing to stop her descent.

This was it. There was nothing more to do, nothing that could save her. She beat weakly at the lid, but at this point was so disoriented that she could barely even make a sound.

 _Forgive me,_ she begged in her mind, forcing her eyes open to stare into the unforgiving darkness. _Forgive me my sins. Forgive me. Forgive me. Forgive me._

And then the darkness consumed her one last time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tumblr: @thetheatrelady


	27. The Princess

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shopping for costumes leads to a heartwarming moment with one of Ali and Ashlyn's kids.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Princess  
> Pairing: Krashlyn  
> Genre: Fluff  
> Rating: K+  
> TW: none

“It’s the most wonderful time of the year!” Ashlyn sang, arms thrown out like she was Maria von Trapp.

Ali laughed, walking behind her with their youngest daughter on her hip. “Baby that’s a different holiday.”

“Well Sinatra was wrong. Halloween is way better than Christmas. Right, Beau?”

Their middle child squirmed away from her grasp, instead going to stand by his older sister. Ashlyn turned back to give Ali a questioning look, but got nothing more than a shrug.

“Alright, costumes should be… this way!” Ashlyn led the family of five to the far side of the store.

“What are you thinking, Ruthie?” Ali asked. The little girl screwed up her face, thinking hard.

“A llama!”

Both of her mothers laughed. “A llama? Do you even know what a llama is?”

She nodded. “We learned about them in school!”

“Well let’s see what they have and then make a decision.”

“Stella? Thoughts? Would you also like to be a llama?”

Their oldest rolled her eyes, not even lifting her face from her phone. “Costumes are for babies,” she mumbled.

“What? No, costumes are for super cool people!” Ashlyn rebutted. “C’mon, where is everyone’s spooky, ooky spirit?”

Ali placed Ruth on the ground and put a hand on Stella’s shoulder. “Maybe we put away our phone while we’re in the store, okay?”

She rolled her eyes again, but tucked it away as asked and began to half heartedly flip through the costumes.

“What are we finding, Miss Ruth?”

The five year old frowned up at Ashlyn. “No llamas,” she sadly reported.

“I’m sorry. What about…” Ashlyn took a quick survey. “Minnie Mouse? Cinderella? What about a kitty cat?”

“No…” Her jaw suddenly dropped. “Mama! This one!” She tugged on a black and purple dress with a tutu skirt. “It has sparkles!”

Ashlyn helped her pull it free. “Oh wow! A light up witch costume!” She flicked the switch, showing Ruth the lights embedded in the fabric and the little girl began to clap excitedly.

“I love it! I love the glitter!”

Ashlyn turned it around. “And look it has a hat, too.”

“I love it, love it, love it!”

Ashlyn laughed and put it in the cart. “Okay, well that’s one down.”

“What about this one?” Ali asked Stella. “You loved this movie.”

She took the Wonder Woman costume and looked it over. “it’s not too bad,” she said, and Ali and Ash shared a look. ‘Not too bad’ was practically the twelve year old equivalent of jumping up and down for joy like her sister had. It was added to the cart.

Ashlyn turned to Beau. “Alright little man, you’re up. What are you thinking?” He shrugged, staring down at where he was digging the toe of his sneaker into the ground. “Okay well do you want to do a super hero like last year? Or what about this ghostbuster costume? This looks so cool!”

He shrugged again. “Yeah, that’s fine.”

Ash sighed heavily. “Or, if you want something different that’s fine too, but a little input would be nice.”

His shoulders tensed. “They don’t have what I want! Just pick one and I’ll wear it!”

Ashlyn gave him a look. “We can go to another store if they don’t have what you’re wanting.”

“No! It’s fine! I’ll just wear the stupid costume!”

“Well if that’s going to be your attitude, maybe you shouldn’t go trick or treating at all!”

“Fine! I don’t want to go!”

Ali stepped forward. “Ruthie? Why don’t you and Stella go with Mama to the candy aisle? You guys can pick out what we’re going to give to the kids who come by!”

“Okay!” She grabbed her mom and big sister by the hands, dragging them to the end of the aisle and out of sight. 

Ali sighed and knelt next to her son. “Hey. Wanna talk about it?” He shook his head, trying not to look at her so she wouldn’t see the quivering of his bottom lip. “Are you sure? I’m a pretty good listener sometimes.”

“It’s dumb.”

“I’m sure it isn’t. What’s wrong? You normally love Halloween.”

“I just…” He glanced around at the racks of costumes. “It’s not what I want.”

“Okay,” she said patiently. “What do you want?”

He looked up at her with wide eyes, then looked back at the ground, mumbling something under his breath. 

“I’m sorry, I didn’t catch that.”

He mumbled again, barely louder. 

“Beau I can’t hear-“

“One of the princesses,” he groaned. 

“Wh… what?”

His shoulders hunched forward, as if he was trying to disappear from sight. “I wish I could go in one of the princess costumes.”

“Oh.” Ali was taken aback. Beau had never displayed signs of any kind that he was interested in dressing in what would traditionally be considered girls clothing, so she felt completely caught off guard. “Okay.”

“But I know that I can’t so it’s fine, I’ll just be a ghostbuster.”

She took his hand. “Why can’t you go as a princess?”

He gave her a look. “Because!”

“Because why?”

“Because… I’m a boy. And princess dresses are for girls.”

Ali took a deep breath, trying to figure out the right words to comfort him. “Beau, you can wear anything that makes you feel comfortable.”

He tried to squirm away. “Mom-“

“No, I’m serious! I mean, you’ve seen the pictures of Mama dressed up as Spider-Man. She’s a girl but that doesn’t matter. Clothes don’t have a gender.”

“But I don’t want…”

She brushed his hair back. “What honey?”

“I don’t want them to make fun of me.”

“Who, your friends?” He gave a half hearted shrug. “Just kids in general?” He nodded. “Beau if people decide to be cruel about the way you choose to express yourself, that says more about them than it does about you.”

“But Mom-“

“I know it’s easier to say than live. But baby you can’t let other’s opinions stop you from being happy. I mean… what if I had let other people keep me from marrying Mama?”

He raised his head, giving her an alarmed look. “No!”

She smiled, cupping his cheek in her hand. “If you really would rather go as a ghostbuster, that’s fine. It’s a super cool costume, and I think you’ll get a lot of compliments. But if you want to go as Belle or Rapunzel or Elsa… that’s okay too. And we will absolutely buy you the dress and the wig and the shoes, just like we would your sisters.”

“Are you sure?” he whispered.

“I’m 100% positive.”

“Okay,” he whispered.

“So what are you thinking?”

He took a deep breath and turned around, marching towards the rack. He quickly flipped through the costumes before grabbing one in his size.

They found Ashlyn and the girls in the candy aisle, Ruthie in the middle of a long winded story about something that happened at pre school as Stella tapped away at her phone. Beau silently added his costume to the cart, and Ashlyn looked over, raising an eyebrow.

“Merida? Nice, she’s a total badass!” He giggled and she gave him a high five before pulling him into her side for a hug. The family began to migrate towards the check out and she leaned down to kiss the top of his head.

“Are you happy, Beau?”

He looked up at her and smiled. “Yeah Mama. I’m really excited for this Halloween.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tumblr: @thetheatrelady


	28. The Demon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He's just out of sight, whispering in your ear.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Demon  
> Pairing: NA  
> Genre: Horro  
> Rating: M  
> TW: religion, language

Alyssa folded her hands, resting them on the edge of her bed. “O Jesus, through the Immaculate Heart of Mary, I offer you my prayers, works, joys, and sufferings of this day for all the intentions of your Sacred Heart, in union with the holy sacrifice of the Mass throughout the world, in thanksgiving for your favors, in reparation for my sins, for the intentions of all my relatives and friends, and in particular for the intentions of the Holy Father. Amen.”

She took a deep breath. She’d lived here at the convent for how many weeks? Why did some days feel like she had been dropped into a dream, a dream where she didn’t recognize anything? Why did everything feel so foggy?

“Sister?” She turned her head, catching sight of a figure in the doorway. “It’s almost time for Mass.”

“Of course,” she murmured. She got to her feet and followed Sister Rosemary from the room.

She kept her eyes on her feet as she walked, her eyes on the worn leather of her shoes.

“Good morning, Sister Aurelia.” _Aurelia,_ she repeated to herself. _Your name is Sister Aurelia now. Alyssa Naeher doesn’t exist. You are different. You’re safe._

“Good morning, Sister Mary Rebecca.” She attempted to walk into the chapel but was stopped by a hand on her arm.

“Sister, your face!”

She raised her eyes to look at the older woman, seeing her alarmed look. “My face?”

Sister Mary Rebecca led her away from the chapel door, down the hallway to the bathroom. It was only there that Alyssa was able to look at herself in the mirror and see the long scratches along her left cheek.

“Surely they must hurt?”

Alyssa shook her head. “No… To tell the truth they barely even sting. I didn’t know they were there until you told me.”

Sister Mary Rebecca was still looking at her, very concerned. “You must have done it during the night. Did you sleep okay? Any bad dreams?”

Bad dreams. Of course she had bad dreams She couldn’t remember the last time she’d woken up fully rested. The religious life was supposed to bring her peace, but she was still waiting. “I guess.”

“What about?”

Alyssa swallowed thickly. “Just… being chased, mainly. Sometimes I’m Saint Joan, running from the stake. Other times I’m back in my secular life.”

Sister Mary Rebecca squeezed her hand, her wide blue eyes showing nothing but care. “You no longer have to run, Sister. Here, you can rest. Here, the Lord will provide thee with shelter.”

She saw a rat scurry across the floor and jumped backwards.

“What? What’s wrong?”

She lifted a shaking hand and pointed. “There! A rat!”

Sister Mary Rebecca turned, looking wildly around. “Where… I don’t see it.”

“It was… it was there. Right there.” Alyssa dropped to her knees, searching for it.

“Sister… perhaps you should go lie down. I’ll let Father Andonovski know that you’re not feeling well.”

“No, I know I saw it!”

**She doesn’t believe you.**

She froze, the hair standing up on the back of her neck. She knew that voice. But it couldn’t be here, not here, she was safe.

She slowly turned to look at where Sister Mary Rebecca was staring down at her. “It was here. I saw it.”

“Well… it’s gone now. I’ll let the custodian know and he can put out poison. But first let’s get you back to bed.”

X

Several days later they were sitting down to supper. Alyssa was exhausted but she wasn’t sure why. She’d had a perfectly normal day of singing and praying and meditating and studying. But still, her eyes fought to close, even as she tried desperately to wrench them upwards.

Sister Amy said grace and the meal was served, some sort of stew. Alyssa took her bowl and picked up her spoon. She dipped it into the liquid, bringing it to her lips.

**Stop. Don’t eat it.**

She squeezed her eyes shut. The voice was back. It was back and that meant something was about to happen. Something bad, something very bad.

**It’s been poisoned.**

She gave her head a little shake. Of course it wasn’t poisoned. Why would anyone want to poison her? She glanced around, watching as her sisters went about their evening meal.

“Sister Aurelia?” She turned to Sister Georgette, her goofy face smiling as always. “Is everything alright?”

“No,” she spat. Everyone around her paused, looking at her.

“Sister Aurelia,” Sister Regina began, her whiskey brown eyes concerned.

“No! I can’t eat this. It’s… it’s…”

“Sister,” Father Andonovski cut in.

“It’s been poisoned!” she spat.

Her fellow sisters dropped their spoons as if they had been burned, staring down into their bowls as if they could see what she was talking about.

“No it hasn’t!” Sister Regina gasped. “My word, what an accusation. Mrs. Durst has been hard at work on this stew.”

“It’s poisoned! It has rat poison in it!” She didn’t know where these facts were coming from, but as soon as the words left her mouth she became convinced of their validity.

Father Andonovski stood up abruptly. “Sister Aurelia, leave the table. You will retire to your room and think about your actions, forgoing recreation. You will rejoin us for Compline and apologize for this disturbance.”

She did as he said, forcing herself to walk instead of run as she left the room. She didn’t even realize she was crying until she was nearly back to her room. A hand on her elbow made her turn, and she found herself face to face with Sister Mary Rebecca.

“Oh, don’t cry.” She wiped Alyssa’s cheeks. “Don’t cry, everything is okay.”

“What is happening?” she asked.

“I… I was about to ask you the same thing.”

“I… I feel so alone,” she sobbed.

Sister Mary Rebecca pulled her into a tight hug, cradling her wimple covered head. “You’re not alone, Sister. You’re never alone, none of us are. He walks with you, He carries you. He is inside of you. He always has been, and always will be.”

This just made Alyssa cry harder. She knew that Sister Mary Rebecca meant God, but she feared there was something else inside of her. Something dark, something sinister. She’d been born running, and she feared that the day was fast approaching when she would be caught.

“I am afraid, Sister,” she whispered.

“Everything is okay. Lean on the Lord. Lean on us. Everything will be okay.”

X

It was the morning work period. Alyssa had been assigned to work out in the garden, and she was glad. Father Andonovski had been greatly upset with her, especially when she hadn’t been able to explain her accusations. She’d been worried that she would be punished, sent to work in the kitchen or worse, knitting clothes for the poor. She knew it was necessary work but the yarn always seemed to knot itself around her fingers. Thankfully, someone had spoken on her behalf and she found herself kneeling among the flowers, the dew soaking into her habit.

She tugged the weeds from between the stems, sitting them to the side. Gardening was hard work, but she rejoiced in it. She liked feeling the wind on her face, hearing the chirps of the birds. She felt closer to God in the garden than she ever had inside of the chapel.

Once the weeding was done, she picked up the knife and moved to the plot of cabbages. She began to carefully cut away the heads, trying to limit the damage done to the plant. Once she managed to cut one free she placed it in a nearby crate to be taken inside. The cabbage would help to feed their convent during the long winter months ahead.

There were voices behind her. “We should pick turnips! We can place candles in them and carry them aloft, like we’re part of the Halloween parade!”

She turned over her shoulder to see two of the postulants, Tierna and Mallory, clutching at each other and giggling.

“Shouldn’t you be attending your work?” she asked quietly.

The girls stopped short, obviously surprised to see anyone out here in the chill. “Sister Aurelia! We… I’m sorry,” Tierna said.

“And the turnips are needed for food, not for recreation.”

Mallory smiled. “We were just joking.”

Alyssa struggled to her feet. “Don’t use that tone with me.”

The smile dropped from both of their faces. “What?” Mallory asked.

“You heard me.”

“Sister, we didn’t mean any harm. We’ll go, we didn’t mean to disturb you.”

“Didn’t mean harm? I am not a fool. I hear the way you talk. I hear how you whisper.”

Mallory took a step forward. “Sister, what do you mean?”

**She’s the one who poisoned your soup. She is trying to kill you.**

Alyssa lifted her knife, tightening her hold. “Don’t! Don’t try to trick me!”

Tierna grabbed Mallory’s arm and jerked her backwards. “Sister Aurelia! We haven’t done anything wrong!”

“You lie!” Alyssa gasped. “You lie and you cheat and you trick. The wolf comes in sheep’s clothing, but the devil… the devil dons a postulant’s veil, he comes for me, as if I can’t see your wickedness.

“Go,” she heard Tierna urge Mallory in a low voice. “Go fetch the Father. Tell him to come quick.” Mallory dashed back towards the door and Alyssa made to follow, but Tierna blocked her way. “Sister Aurelia, calm down! Calm yourself! Let us speak rationally.”

“There is no rationale in her deadly aims!”

“Sister!” She turned slightly, seeing Father Andonovski looking aghast, Sister Regina just behind him. “Put down the knife!”

“No! I must protect myself! I must stay vigilant!”

Tierna raised her hands. “I won’t hurt you, Sister. No one here wishes you any harm.”

**She lies.**

By now she could not only hear the voice, but feel the breath against her ear. It felt more real to her than anyone else in existence.

**She is working with Mallory. They mean you harm. They know that you are on to them. You have to strike them down first.**

And so she struck out, brandishing the knife in her hand, advancing until she made contact. Tierna’s hands on her shoulders tried to push her away but she had the advantage of both size and surprise. Warm blood sprayed onto her habit, and she pulled the knife back to strike again, but then there was a sharp pain in the back of her head, and everything went black.

X

She woke sometime later, finding herself in her chambers, staring at the ceiling. She tried to bring a hand to rub at the back of her head and found herself restrained, her hands and legs tied tightly to the bed frame.

“Wha-”

“Rest, Sister. Don’t fight it. It’s to keep you safe.” She turned her head to see Sister Mary Rebecca sitting beside her, a worn bible in her lap.

“Safe?” Alyssa asked.

“You… you were thrashing about. Scratching.”

She tossed her head from side to side, trying to figure out a way to free herself. “I’m not safe here. I have to go. I have to go!”

“But you _are_ safe. I promise you!”

Alyssa began to cry, pulling at the straps even as they tightened painfully around her wrists. “I’m not. I’ve never been safe. I must go. I must go!”

Sister Mary Rebecca reached out carefully, stroking her thumb along Alyssa’s cheekbone. “Why aren’t you safe? What’s coming?”

Alyssa sagged back against the bed. “The demon,” she whispered.

Sister Mary Rebecca’s brow furrowed. “Demon?”

“My… mother was an angry woman. A cruel woman. She… she wasn’t married. But she had my sisters and me. And she… bedded men, for money. For drink. For comfort. And so we did our best to stay out of her way, out of sight… But you can’t always, when you’re very small. We were hungry… Abigail was hungry.”

“Your sister?”

She nodded. “My little sister. And my mother… She had been drinking all night. And when she was woken… she began to talk to someone who wasn’t there. Arguing. And then suddenly she locked eyes on Abigail, and…” She swallowed thickly. “We were so small. We couldn’t pull her off. We couldn’t save her.”

“I’m very sorry,” Sister Mary Rebecca whispered.

“She was taken away. Put… somewhere. My sister and I were placed in an orphanage. She was better at talking to people, she found a boy to love her, to take her away… And I just had myself. Myself and the memory of the man who wasn’t there. Who spoke to my mother, warning her of dangers no one else could see.” A lone tear rolled down her cheek. “I did the best I could. Working, trying to support myself… but then… I began to hear him.”

“Hear who?”

“The demon. The same one that had plagued my mother. The one that commanded her to drink, to hit, to kill, he was suddenly just out of sight. He began to whisper, and I tried to ignore him. I knew I had to resist, that’s why I decided to join the religious order! But… he followed me. He follows me. I can’t escape him.”

“And that’s why you attacked Tierna in the garden?”

“I was just trying to protect myself! I was afraid!”

“Sister Aurelia, she was nothing but an unarmed postulant. She wasn’t trying to harm you.”

“Is she okay?”

“They had to call for a physician, she needed stitches, but she’ll be okay.”

Unexplainable anger ricocheted throughout Alyssa’s body, making her arch off of the bed. “That bitch! That fucking bitch! I’ll fucking kill her, I won’t let her take me out first. I’ll crush her skull. I’ll kill that goddamn stupid bitch!” She could barely even recognize the voice coming from between her lips, speaking these words that she didn’t dare even think much less use. She let out a scream, not caring how it sliced at her throat.

By now Sister Mary Rebecca had jumped from her seat and had flattened herself against the wall, her face terrified. Alyssa’s door flew open and several Sisters spilled in, headed by Father Andonovski. She thrashed on the bed, managing to kick free of one of her bindings. He made the sign of the cross.

” Our Father, who art in Heaven…. hallowed be thy name. Thy Kingdom Come… Thy Will be Done… On Earth as it is in Heaven-”

“Shut up!” Alyssa screeched. “Shut the fuck up you stupid bastard! Let me go!”

Father Andonovski gasped. “My child, what have you done? What evil have you invited inside?”

“You are the evil. He protects me from you! You’re trying to kill me!”

He stepped forward, making the sign of the cross again. “We will cleanse you of this spirit. We will purge it from you.”

He turned to Sister Regina, who stood in the doorway. “Call the Archbishop. Tell him we will be requiring the services of an exorcist.” He turned back to Alyssa. “We will purge this spirit from you. We will make you clean.”

He shepherded her sisters away, even Sister Mary Rebecca who was staring at her with a mixture of terror, pity, and heartbreak. Her sobs doubled as the anger flooded from her body, leaving nothing but fear. What did that mean? What was happening? What would become of her?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tumblr: @thetheatrelady


	29. The Fight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Emily never could have guessed that Mike Horan's Halloween party would turn into a brawl between her current girlfriend and her ex.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Fight  
> Pairing: Sohara, Soran  
> Genre: Angst (with a happy ending)  
> Rating: M  
> TW: teen drinking, fighting

Everyone at Marietta High knew that Mike Horan threw the best parties. It wasn’t truly summer until you’d gotten blackout drunk at the Horan’s house. He would welcome everyone back to classes with a kegger, and everyone ended up hit by Cupid’s arrow at his Valentine’s Day bash.

This year’s Halloween party promised to hold up to expectations. No one was really sure where Mike and Lindsey’s parents were when these happened, but they conveniently were gone again this weekend.

Emily tugged at her red crop top as Emma finished working on her makeup. “Are you sure about this? I don’t wanna look slutty.”

Her twin rolled her eyes, putting another layer of gold eyeshadow on Emily’s eyes. “I already told you, you’re fine. It’s like, not even that slutty.” Emily looked down at the black high waisted shorts that Emma had attached red, orange, and yellow ruffles to, and earned a pinch to her thigh.

“Ouch!”

“Well? Stop moving around, I’m trying to finish your eye make up.”

“Sorry,” Emily mumbled.

Emma touched up her eyeliner and sat back, satisfied. “Alright, I’m done. You look great!”

Emily grinned. “You mean I look… smokin’?” She gave a double finger gun but received nothing more than a groan.

“Atrocious. C’mon, we still have to sneak past Mom and Dad.”

“Mom wont care. She’s going to be so excited that I’m wearing makeup like a ‘normal girl’ that she would probably offer to drive.”

Emma smoothed her sailorette costume down. “No, but if Dad sees us, she’s going to pretend to care.”

They pulled on their coats and began the careful process of moving silently down the stairs and out the front door without attracting the attention of their parents who were watching a football game.

When they pulled up, it seemed like every light in the house was on, and kids were mingling on the front porch. Emma and Emily went inside, promising to find each other at eleven and go from there. Emma headed for the living room and Emily went for the kitchen. She grabbed a beer from the cooler and cracked it open, taking a long pull.

“Damn, hard day Sonny?” She turned around and her breath caught hard in her throat.

Lindsey was standing in the doorway into the dining room, looking like she stepped right out of a dream. She was wearing a silky white toga that hugged every single curve and beautifully contrasted against her tan skin. Her legs were spilling out from under the hem, looking delicious and tempting. Her arms were folded across her chest, accentuating the cut of her biceps. She gave Emily a smirk.

“Hey. Didn’t know if I would see you here.”

Lindsey gave her a look. “Uh… I live here.”

Emily blinked, then forced a chuckle. “Right. Yeah.” She took another drink. “Great costume.”

Lindsey walked over to grab her own beer. “Thanks! It’s comfy, so…” She gestured to Emily. “And you look… what are you?”

“Oh, I’m… Well, I’m fire.”

“Fire?”

“Yeah.” Sonny gave a nervous grin. “Fire. Like a campfire or something.”

It was hard for her to believe that once upon a time, Lindsey had been her best friend. They’d met in the fifth grade when Emma and Emily switched to public school. They’d bonded over their mutual love of soccer and sour patch kids, eating them until their tongues were raw, giggling for hours in Lindsey’s bedroom.

But then high school had happened, and Emily had very stupidly fallen in love with her best friend. She was terrified, but then quickly elated when it turned out that Lindsey returned her feelings. They’d started dating and Emily had thought that everything was perfect, that she had found the person she was going to marry.

And then… Kelley O’Hara had been moved from forward to defender, and the coach had asked Emily to help her with the transition. Well, actually she had asked Ali to show Kelley the ropes, but Ali had been far too busy with Ashlyn to do anything. And it was fine! Emily liked Kelley. She was smart and fierce and funny and incredibly attractive. But they had just been friends. Good friends. But Lindsey had been convinced that there was something between them. It led to countless arguments and fights, until Lindsey ended up breaking up with Emily just before the end of the school year.

Emily had spent the summer in complete misery. She had lost her girlfriend, but also her best friend. She still had Emma of course, but she had a boyfriend and was rarely home. For the first time in her life, Emily began to dread the start of soccer, knowing that it would just rub her face in everything that she had lost.

But then something strange happened.

Kelley showed up to her house before their first practice with no warning and told Emily to get in her car. She’d taken her to the field and then afterwards they’d gone to Waffle House, the one place other than the soccer pitch that Emily had ever felt complete calm.

It was only a matter of time before Emily found herself staring at Kelley, listening to her rant on about something her brother had done, and then suddenly they were kissing.

Kissing Kelley was… God. It was certainly different from kissing Lindsey. While kissing Lindsey had been like sinking into a warm bath, kissing Kelley was like downing a double shot of whiskey, like swallowing a firecracker. It was hot and exciting, but also a tiny bit unnerving. Frightening.

“So why are you a fire?” Lindsey asked.

“To match me.” They both turned to see Kelley standing in the doorway. She was in a black sports bra and suspenders, a firefighter’s hat on her head. “It’s a couple’s costume, Linds. Get it?” She smiled but it didn’t reach her eyes.

“Yeah. I got it. I’m not an idiot.”

“Just checking.” Kelley walked forward and placed a hand on Emily’s hip, giving her a kiss. “Hi baby. You look great.”

Emily couldn’t help but blush. “Thanks. Emma did my makeup.”

She smirked. “Wasn’t talking about your makeup, but that’s nice too.” She grabbed a beer from the cooler and held her hand out to Emily. “I think I saw them starting up beer pong. Wanna watch?”

Emily took it. “Sure.” She smiled at Lindsey. “See you around, I guess.”

X

A mixed drink followed Emily’s beer, and then she and Kelley were upstairs. It was always said that the upstairs bedrooms were off limits, but this was steadfastly ignored. The upstairs bedrooms had been rumored to lead to one syphilis outbreak, two pregnancy scares, and one threesome. But Emily wasn’t thinking about any of those things as Kelley kissed her back into the pillows.

Lindsey’s mom used the same laundry detergent to wash the guest bedroom comforter as she did for Lindsey’s blankets. Even as Kelley was kissing her and kissing her and kissing her, and her hand sneaking it’s way up under her crop top to massage her breast, pulling pants and stammered whimpers from Emily’s lips, Emily couldn’t stop smelling Lindsey Horan.

One of Kelley’s thighs fell between hers, earning a full on moan, and she placed her hands on her shoulders. “Kel. Kel wait.”

“What? What’s wrong?”

“I just… I need a minute.”

“I… are you okay?”

“Yeah. I just… I don’t know. This doesn’t feel like the right moment.” She and Kelley hadn’t had sex yet. It wasn’t that she didn’t want to, god sometimes she thought her body was going to explode from how badly she wanted her girlfriend, but every time they got close, something happened and Emily pulled back.

Kelley sighed, falling back on the bed. “Em…”

“I’m sorry, it’s just…”

“Just what? We don’t have enough time? You have too much homework? Your mom will be home soon? You’re on your period? Which excuse will it be this time?”

“Kelley!”

“What? I mean, if you don’t want to have sex with me, then just tell me.”

“No, I do. Of course I do, it’s just…”

“Just what? I mean I would get it if you were a virgin, Em. That would make sense, this constant hot and cold, back and forth. But I know that you were fucking Lindsey for like, six months.” Drunk Kelley had even less of a filter than sober Kelley, which was truly a remarkable feat. Emily could hear the insecurity layered underneath the frustration and beer.

“I’m sorry, I just… I’m…”

“Still in love with Lindsey?” Kelley snapped.

Emily jerked back. “Wh- wha…”

“Oh my god, you’re not even going to try and deny it? What have we even been doing, Emily?”

“It’s not like that, Kelley!”

“Yes it is! I’ve been thinking we’ve been growing closer, growing towards… fuck, I don’t know, something, and it doesn’t even matter! She dumped you and you’re still pining after her like a pathetic little puppy dog while I’m right in front of you, and you couldn’t give less of a fuck.”

Emily’s face twisted up as her eyes filled with tears. “Fuck you, Kelley,” she said wetly. She kicked Kelley’s firefighter hat, long abandoned on the ground, “Fuck. You.” She tore the door open and stormed down the hallway and down the stairs.

She had the bad luck to run into Lindsey at the bottom. “Em- what’s wrong? Why are you crying?”

She wiped at her eyes, past caring that she was probably smearing all of Emma’s hard work across her face. “Nothing, I’m fine-”

“What did you do?”

She turned around to see that Kelley had followed her down the stairs. Her hair was mussed, and her lipstick was smudged, leaving very little doubt about what they had been doing upstairs.

Kelley fixed her with an ugly look. “Of fucking course. Why wouldn’t be involved in this, Horan?”

Lindsey shoved the drink she had been holding into Mal’s unprepared hands, spilling most of it in the process. “I asked you a question, Kelley. What did you do?”

“Why do you care?”

“Guys, stop-” Emily tried to interrupt, but it was useless.

“I care because Sonny is my best friend!”

“Yeah, some fucking friend you are!”

Before anyone knew what was happening, Lindsey pulled back her arm and slapped Kelley across the face, sending her staggering to the side. Emily let out a shriek, and for one moment Kelley stared at Lindsey as she cupped her cheek. But then she hurled herself at Lindsey, sending her backwards over the couch, and all bets were off.

If someone who didn’t know them were to walk in, they would have obviously bet on Lindsey due to her clear size advantage. However, anyone who had ever spent longer than twenty minutes with Kelley knew that she was a little bat shit crazy, and more than capable of handling herself. They matched each other hit for hit, not slapping like stereotypical girl fights but landing punches.

Their classmates scrambled to get out of the way, watching as the fight progressed through the living room, into the foyer, and out the front door, leaving a trail of destruction in their midst.

Emily followed hopelessly, screaming for them to stop, but neither paid her any mind. This was more than whatever had happened in the upstairs bedroom, this was about settling months of anger and resentment and bad blood.

It wasn’t until Mike stepped outside and wrapped his arms around his little sister’s waist, hauling her up and away from Kelley, that there was a pause. Unfortunately, he had arrived too late.

The red and blue police lights bounced off of the Horan’s house, sending kids running out the back door. Those in the front didn’t have that option, and could only groan, accepting their fate.

Alright, that’s enough, that’s enough,” called the cop, swaggering out of his car. “Dump your cups and line up, let’s all be nice and easy about this.”

Mike, still holding Lindsey, strong armed her away from Kelley, and Emily rushed to Kelley’s side.

“Oh my god, you’re bleeding.” Emily tried to help her up, but Kelley snatched her hands away.

“I’m fine.”

The cop shined his flashlight on their faces, making them squint. “Alright ladies, in line.” He took a step closer. “You’re Dan O’Hara’s girl, right?”

Kelley nodded, jutting her jaw out. “Yes sir.”

“Your daddy plays a hell of a round of golf. C’mon girl, get in line with your little friends.”

The cops went down the line, checking to see how drunk each kid was, sending most away with a finger wag. When he reached Kelley and Lindsey, he let out a low whistle. “Well looky here! Coupla Rocky Balboas!” He laughed. “What happened?”

“She started it,” Kelley spat. “She sucker punched me, like a little bitch!”

“You had it coming, and I’ll do it again!” Mike braced his hands between the two, keeping them separated.

“Let me guess: fighting over some boy?” the cop asked with a grin.

It was impossible to say which girl gave him the dirtier look.

“O’Hara, are you okay to drive?”

“Yes sir.”

“Good. Get gone before I decide to change my mind and decide you to haul you down to the station.”

Emily grabbed her wrist. “Kel…”

Kelley turned to look at her. “We both know I’m not the one you want. There’s no sense in pretending anymore. Go get the girl, Sonnett.” She tugged her arm away and started for her car.

Emily turned around to catch the tail end of the cop lecturing Mike. “…better than this. I don’t wanna be over here busting your balls for having a little fun, but when it gets out of control, I don’t have a choice!”

“I know. And I’m sorry. Things just got a little heated.”

The cop gave him a look then grinned. “Think you boys are gonna take it to state this year?”

Mike smiled. “We’re gonna try.”

“Well good luck. And watch your defense against Alhambra, they’ve got quite the line.” He turned to Emily. “And how about you, little lady? Do I need to call your parents to come pick you up?”

“She’s staying here,” Lindsey quickly supplied.

The cop jammed his hands in his pockets. “Alright. Then I’ll leave you three to begin the clean up. Mike, I don’t wanna have this conversation again, keep it under control.” He gave them a wink then returned to his cop car, pulling away.

Mike finally let go of his little sister. “Way to fucking go, Linds.” He stalked into the house, leaving them alone.

Lindsey turned to Emily. “Are you okay?”

She shook her head. “What? I’m… I’m fine. Well, I think Kelley just broke up with me, but…” She sighed. “Are you okay? I mean, Jesus.”

Lindsey shrugged. “Yeah. I mean she definitely got some good hits in, but…” She gently prodded her nose. “I don’t think anything’s broken.” She glanced down at her toga. “My costume’s ripped, though.”

“Yeah.”

Lindsey sighed. “Let’s go inside and change. I’ll grab you some sweats and a makeup wipe.”

As Emily wiped off all of the eyeliner and eyeshadow, Lindsey watched. “So what happened?”

“When?”

“Upstairs.”

Emily bit the inside of her cheek. “Kelley wanted to have sex. I didn’t.”

“So she broke up with you?” Emily could feel Lindsey getting angry all over again and held up her hand.

“No, it’s not… we hadn’t. At all. And she knew that we had, so…” She gave a slight shrug. “She didn’t feel like I was over you.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah.”

Lindsey shifted her weight from foot to foot. “…Are you?”

“What?”

Lindsey gave her an uncertain look. “Over me.”

Emily cleared her throat, tossing the makeup wipe in the trash. “Do you want me to be?”

She rolled her eyes, retreating from the bathroom, Emily following. “Never mind, forget I-”

“Lindsey.” She waited until her ex turned around. “Do you want me to be over you? Are you over me?”

She took a half step forward. “No,” she mumbled. “I… I think about you every day.”

“I miss you,” Emily whispered. “I miss getting to kiss you, getting to be around you. I miss being your girlfriend, but I miss being your best friend more.”

Lindsey sniffed. “I miss you too, Em.”

“I…” Emily’s heart was pounding in her chest, but she forced herself to keep talking. “I still love you.”

“Oh, Emily.” Lindsey took a step forward and then her lips were against Emily’s, her hand sliding into her hair, kissing her as if no one else in the world existed.

And for Emily, no one else did.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tumblr: @thetheatrelady


	30. The Fall Festival

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Who would have known that all it took was a hay ride?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Fall Festival  
> Pairing: Binoe  
> Genre: Fluff  
> Rating: T  
> TW: none

Make no mistake: this was absolutely a bad idea.

To be honest Megan Rapinoe wasn’t even really sure how she had ended up in this position.

I mean, sure, she had been crushing on Sue Bird for several months now. And she had fantasized about what would happen if she stopped being a chicken shit and just asked her if she likes girls and if she also happened to like her, but that required a whole other level of balls that she wasn’t completely sure she had.

They’d been hanging out more and more. At the beginning of October they’d decided to binge The Haunting of Hill House in preparation for Bly Manor, and BOY had that been a mistake. Pinoe had been completely unaware that Hill House featured Kate Siegal as a whole lesbian dream. She’d sat silently next to Sue, hyperaware of every single one of their movements, barely able to focus on the story because she was too busy picturing what it might be like to get to do those kind of things with a certain other brunette.

And then, the universe punched her again by having Bly Manor’s main characters be the softest lesbians to ever exist. So this time, instead of trying not to think about what it would be like to fall into bed with Sue, she was thinking about what it would be like to cuddle up next to her with a cup of coffee in an apartment with lots of plants and books. Mike Flannagan apparently had a personal vendetta against her, and wouldn’t be happy until he had ruined her life.

But that had been a few weeks ago. Now it was the day before Halloween and their school was throwing its annual Fall Festival. It was a community wide event that raised money for the Senior prom, and was always a lot of fun. Pinoe had gone with Ali and Ash and they were having a blast. They’d done almost all of the activity booths, from the cake walk to the pie throw to the bean bag toss to bobbing for apples. All the while, vaguely Halloween music had been piped in through the gym speakers along side oldies to match the overall theme: Zombie 50s. All of the seniors were dressed up in poodle skirts and leather jackets with messy gore makeup covering their faces.

“So, did you ask what booth she’s working?” Ashlyn asked.

“Who?” Pinoe asked, as if she hadn’t been looking forward to seeing one person tonight.

Ali pinched off a bite of cotton candy and stuffed it in her mouth. “Sue.”

Pinoe shrugged. “Uh, I think she was thinking about doing the balloon dart toss or the three legged race. She wanted to do whatever Diana was doing.”

_S.O.S she's in disguise_

_S.O.S she's in disguise_

_There's a she wolf in disguise_

_Coming out, coming out, coming out_

_A domesticated girl that's all you ask of me_

_Darling it is no joke this is lycanthropy_

_The moon's awake now with eyes wide open_

_My body's craving so feed the hungry_

Ashlyn rolled her eyes, adjusting the straps of her Clyde costume. “Okay, well she wasn’t at the dart toss, so why don’t we go outside and check?”

Pinoe let out a long breath, puffing out her cheeks. “I mean, there’s no rush.”

Ali stamped her high heeled foot. “Come ON, Pinoe. You haven’t heard a word we’ve said tonight. Just go get your girl!”

“She’s not my girl,” Pinoe murmured, uncharacteristically nervous.

“She could be. But only if you make a move.”

“But what if she doesn’t want me to? What if I make her uncomfortable? What if I’m reading too much into this?”

Ashlyn scrubbed her hand across her face. “Duuuuuuuuude. Just talk to her.”

The music changed to an old Perry Como tune and Ali took Ashlyn’s hand. “We’re going to go dance. You’re not invited. Go find Sue.” Ashlyn grinned and threw an arm around her girlfriend’s shoulders and they left Pinoe standing alone, staring grumpily after Bonnie and Clyde as they began to sway side to side. “Jerks.”

She decided she might as well go outside as suggested. She found Penny at the three legged race. “Hey, I thought Dee was going to help you out?”

Penny rolled her eyes, handing out ties to contestants. “Yeah, she was going to but Mrs. Loeffler decided it would be a bad idea if we worked together.” She lowered her voice. “What a homophobic bitch.”

Pinoe wrinkled her nose. “Seriously.”

Penny adjusted her neck scarf. “Anyway, Dee got moved to the hay ride, Sue’s here with me though.”

“Talking smack, Taylor?”

Pinoe turned and smiled. There was Sue, dressed in a Hawaiian shirt and a lei, her face half heartedly covered in pale make up. “Hey you.”

“Hey,” Sue grinned.

“What’s with the Jimmy Buffet get up? Where’s the pink lady jacket?”

Sue laughed. “Isn’t it obvious? I’m Elvis from Blue Hawaii!”

“Well where’s your ukulele?”

“Eh, I left it in my car.” She gestured to the three legged race. “Are you competing?”

Pinoe shook her head, shoving her hands into her pockets. “Nah, I don’t have a partner.”

“I’ll be your partner.” Pinoe combed a hand through her hair, forcing herself not to think about what she wished Sue meant.

“You sure?”

“Hell yeah!” Penny handed them a couple ties and they got in line. Sue tied their legs together and Pinoe forced herself not to think about how every inch of their legs were pressed together, about how Sue’s fingers were grazing her inner thigh as she knotted the tie. Sue placed her arm around Pinoe’s shoulders, so she slid hers around Sue’s waist.

“Are you ready?”

“Oh yeah,” Pinoe replied, feeling more confident than she was.

“Good. ‘Cause I don’t like to lose.” Pinoe could have swore that Sue winked at her before Penny raised the flag.

“On your mark, get set, GO!”

They set off, slightly hindered by the fact that Sue was several inches taller than Pinoe. They hobbled towards the finish line, in the lead, but at the last moment they tumbled forwards, off balance, and crashed to the ground. A pair of freshman girls crossed the line and claimed first prize.

“I think I hit my head,” Sue laughed, bringing a hand to her forehead.

“Are you okay?” Pinoe asked, a little breathlessly.

“Yeah, I’m fine.”

Penny appeared in front of them. “Sue why don’t you take your break? Go get some cider or something.”

“Alright.” Sue undid the ties joining her to Pinoe and stood up, helping her to her feet. “Meg, you want some cider?”

“Sure!”

“I might go check in on Dee while I’m gone,” Sue told Penny.

“Alright. Give her a kiss for me.”

Sue laughed. “Sure, I’ll make sure to do that.”

“So what do you think?” Sue asked as they walked to the refreshments table. Pinoe used a few of her tickets to get them drinks.

“I think it’s awesome!”

“Yeah, I think so, too. I have to admit, when they suggested this theme I thought it might be dumb, but it’s actually kind of cool!” She took a sip of her drink. “I’m really glad you came.”

Pinoe grinned. “Of course. Gotta support the Senior class! Especially the prom, I mean… It’s the prom,” she finished awkwardly.

“Yeah. Sure,” Sue laughed. They walked over to the edge of the field where the hayride booth was sitting, largely ignored. Diana was sitting behind the card table, grumpily propping her chin on her fist.

“This fucking blows, dude,” she grumbled before Sue or Pinoe could say anything.

“Awww, poor baby,” Sue teased.

“I’m serious! I’ve had like ten people all night, and since I’m away from the building there’s no wind cover, I’m freezing my balls off. And I miss my girlfriend,” she whined.

“Oh that reminds me, Penny sent something for you.” Dee sat up but quickly was trying to squirm away when Sue tried lay a smacking kiss on her cheek.

“Dude! Sick, get away from me!”

“But she told me to give you a kiss!”

“Well message received!” Dee replied, flipping Sue off

Sue stepped away. “Well, horrible customer service aside, you’ve sold us. We’ll go on your shitty hayride. At least,” she turned to Pinoe, “If you want to.”

“No, yeah sure!” They gave Dee two tickets and she pointed them to the wagon behind her. The driver, someone’s dad or uncle, gave them a look as if to say _Really? Just the two of you?_ But once they were settled in the back on a bale of hay, he shrugged and snapped the reins, setting the horses in motion.

Pinoe became acutely aware that this whole situation was… well, inherently romantic. The wind was whipping around them, making them shiver, so Sue grabbed the quilts that were in the bottom and spread them across their laps.

Pinoe tucked her hands beneath the blanket, curling them along the edge of the hay bale, and realized that Sue had done the same. Their pinkies were against each other, just barely brushing, and Pinoe felt something like excitement or terror course through her body.

Yup. A bad idea. This was a terrible, no good mistake.

“So…”

“So…” Sue repeated back.

Pinoe tilted her head back, looking at the sky. “It’s a nice night,” she said lamely. “The stars… it’s beautiful.”

“Yeah. Beautiful.” She felt warm breath on her cheek, and looked back at Sue. She wasn’t looking at the sky or the sights, she was just looking at Pinoe.

In a moment of extraordinary courage, Pinoe scooted her hand over, covering Sue’s, and was rewarded with a wide smile. That was all of the encouragement she needed, and she leaned forward, pressing her lips to Sue’s.

After several dazzling moments Sue pulled back with a grin. “Oh thank God. This whole time I’ve been waiting… but then you didn’t do anything! So I thought I was maybe imagining it.”

“Imagining it?”

“That you like me.”

“Oh.” Pinoe let out a laugh. “I… yeah. I like you. I like you a lot.”

“Great. Because I like you too.” Then Sue pulled her back in for another dizzying, magical kiss.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tumblr: @thetheatrelady


	31. The Masquerade

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They best part of getting dressed up is the opportunity to take it all off.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Masquerade  
> Pairing: Preath  
> Genre: Smut  
> Rating: E  
> TW: explicit sex
> 
> Thank you to everyone who has stuck around to read all 31 of these! I hope you enjoyed it, and as a reward, have possible the hottest sex I have ever written. Happy Halloween, everyone!

Christen took a sip of her champagne, nodding along as the US soccer bigwig she was talking to prattled on about… something. Something he found to be very exciting and important she was sure. She was normally better at these kind of big events, of staying present and wowing people with her interpersonal skills.

But that was before Tobin had shown up looking like _that._

They’d flown in from Utah and Portland respectively for the US Soccer Halloween Masquerade Ball, so they hadn’t gotten ready together. Christen had been certain that her choice of a dark green velvet gown with a plunging neckline would make her wife’s jaw drop, especially when paired with the delicate black masquerade mask she had chosen. But Tobin had certainly come to play, walking into the ballroom in a black silk suit, all black Nike high tops, and a dark gold mask, her hair swept carelessly to one side in the way that drove Christen crazy.

The man she was talking to seemed to finally notice that she was no longer paying attention, and glanced over his shoulder. “Oh are those the Portland girls that just got in?”

“Mm hm.” Christen wasn’t certain she could trust her voice at the moment.

“Oh good. I’ve been meaning to talk with Lindsey about… hopefully I can pick her out!” he joked. “Having a masquerade event seems like a good idea until you need to talk business.”

“Right,” she breathed, tearing her eyes away from Tobin to smile at him.

“Lovely to speak with you, as always,” he said with an odd little bow.

“You too.”

When she turned back, she could no longer see Tobin, and she silenced the pang of disappointment in her stomach. She would have plenty of time to gawk at her wife later. She went to pick up her champagne flute, but was stopped by a very familiar hand on hers. She become instantly aware of warmth just behind her.

“Hi,” she said softly.

“Hello.” Tobin’s voice was warm and raspy in her ear. It had been weeks since they’d last seen each other in person, and Christen had to stop herself from turning and throwing her arms around her wife’s neck.

“Did you get something to drink?”

“I did. But now I’m looking for something to eat.” Tobin’s hand, hidden between their bodies, ghosted down her spine, making her skin break out in goosebumps.

“Oh is that so?”

“Mm hm.”

Christen spun around to face her wife, interrupting their playful back and forth. “I’ve missed you.”

Tobin’s eyes softened. “I’ve missed you, too, baby.”

“How was your flight?”

“Once they fixed the mechanical problem that made us late, it was fine. No turbulence or anything.”

“Good.” Christen took a breath, wanting to say something, but stopped herself.

“What?”

“God I want to kiss you.”

“I know.” Tobin leaned in slightly, her lips close to Christen’s ear. “I want to kiss you too. And as incredible as you look in this dress… I can’t wait to tear it off of you.”

“Tobin!” Alex’s loud voice broke them apart. “Come over here, Allie and I need a tie breaker.”

Christen let out something like a whine and Tobin chuckled lightly.

“Don’t worry, Chris. Later.”

They didn’t catch up to each other until nearly two hours later. Every time Christen tried to make her way over to where Tobin was talking and laughing with Allie and Alex, she found herself caught by another US Soccer bigwig, eager to tell her how excited they were for the next season. Normally she would have been more than happy to talk with them, wanting to impress upon them that the women’s team deserved more, but tonight she just wanted to spend some time with her wife and besides, she felt like those men were more interested in talking to the neckline of her dress than her.

She finally dropped into the seat next to Tobin as Allie went to the bathroom and Alex was pulled into taking a picture with the Pride. Tobin grinned at her. “Missed you.”

“My feet are killing me.”

Tobin leaned forward, as if inspecting the table’s centerpiece, and slipped her hand through the slit in Christen’s dress, resting her hand on her knee. “I’ll rub them for you when we get home.”

Her fingers slowly massaged Christen’s skin, distracting her. “My feet?”

Tobin grinned. “Among other things.”

This made Christen flush, and she looked at her wife through her eyelashes. “Don’t tease me,” she murmured.

“Mm, but what if I want to?” Her hand slid a little higher, making Christen suck in a breath.

“Tobs-”

“We’re okay.”

Christen spread her legs a little and picked up a program from the table, holding it as if she was reading it. “I want you.”

“I want you too.” Her hand slid higher, her pinky coming up to just brush the fabric of Christen’s underwear. She gave a groaning laugh. “God, you’re already so wet.”

Christen swallowed thickly, squeezing her eyes shut as Tobin’s pinky lightly stroked over the damp silk. “It’s all for you,” she murmured.

Tobin gave her a little more pressure. “I brought you a present-”

“Tobin?” They both startled, whipping their heads around to see Sophia Smith.

“Yeah?” Tobin asked, attempting to surreptitiously slide her hand out of Christen’s dress and failing.

Sophia’s eyes went wide and her cheeks went red. “I uh… they need… Pictures.” She turned on the spot and walked quickly away.

Tobin stood up from her chair and Christen grabbed her hand. “What did you bring?”

“Later.”

“But Tobin-”

“Christen. Be good.”

A shiver went down her spine. Tobin squeezed her hand and gave her a wink before walking away.

* * *

They were both fighting wandering hands in the uber home, letting fingertips skate against thighs and arms, sharing heated glances in the silence of the backseat. Christen didn’t even thank the driver when he pulled up to their Manhattan Beach home, instead throwing the door open and quickly sliding out.

As soon as the door closed behind Tobin, Christen found herself against the wall of the entryway, Tobin’s lips on hers. She moaned into the kiss, sliding her fingers deep into Tobin’s hair and urging her closer. They kissed and kissed and kissed, until Christen was dizzy with it, clutching at Tobin with want but also to help keep her upright. Tobin kissed along her jaw and down her throat, sucking at the skin where it met her shoulder.

“You’re gonna leave a mark,” Christen gasped out.

“Good,” Tobin grunted.

Christen pushed away from the wall and they haphazardly made their way towards the bedroom, knocking into furniture and walls as they did, unwilling to separate even for a few brief moments. Once inside, Tobin pushed Christen down on the bed then leaned back with a grin.

“God, you look incredible. The dress, and the mask, and just-” She gave her head a little shake. “I can’t believe you’re mine.”

Christen propped herself up on her elbows. “Show me.”

Tobin surged forward, once again kissing her mouth as her hands grabbed at the fabric of her dress, pulling it and bunching it around her waist. Christen’s thong was quickly pulled down her legs, and then Tobin’s knuckle dragged up and down her folds, making Christen whine against her wife’s mouth.

“Please.”

Tobin circled Christen’s clit, not giving near enough pressure. She kissed at Christen’s panting lips. “What do you want, baby?”

“I want you to fuck me. I want your fingers inside of me.”

And then they were, two fingers, pressing hard and deep. Christen couldn’t help but cry out, falling back against the bed, rolling her hips towards Tobin to meet her thrusts. Tobin kissed down her throat, along the skin exposed by the neckline of her dress, stopping along the way to mouth at one of Christen’s nipples through the dark green fabric. She dropped to her knees beside the bed, and then her mouth was on Christen, tongue fluttering over her clit as she kept up the rhythm of her hand.

“Fuck! God, Tobs, I-” One hand grabbed at the blankets beneath her, the other went down to cup the back of Tobin’s head, pressing her closer. “Fuck, I’m gonna… gonna-”

Tobin’s fingers curled inside of her, pressing hard at her g spot, and Christen came apart with a loud moan, her thighs trembling on either side of Tobin’s head.

She helped her come down, stroking her through the aftershocks, then raised up to kiss Christen gently on the lips. She couldn’t help but moan at the taste of her own arousal on her lips. “Fuck, baby.”

“I wanted to do that all night.”

“I can tell,” Christen laughed. She gave her another kiss. “Was that my present?”

Tobin chuckled. “Oh no. Not even close.” She got to her feet and began to take off her suit jacket. “Get undressed.” She quickly did so, tossing her mask and her gorgeous gown carelessly to the side. When she turned back around, her breath caught hard in her chest.

Tobin had also shed her clothes, and was standing in nothing but their strap on. “Fuck,” Christen gasped.

Tobin gave a cocky grin. “That’s the idea, baby.”

Christen walked forward, making sure to swing her hips in the way that never failed to capture Tobin’s attention. When she reached her, she dropped to her knees, earning a sharp inhale. She slowly leaned forward, taking the strap on in her mouth, looking up at Tobin through her eyelashes.

“Fuck, Chris.”

She lightly scratched her nails up Tobin’s thighs, curving around to palm her ass, squeezing her cheeks as she bobbed up and down. She brought one hand to the front, teasing a finger inside of Tobin as the strap on pressed against her clit. Tobin let out a groan.

“Bed. The… fuck, the bed.”

Christen let Tobin help her to her feet, but when they reached the bed Tobin spun them so that she could sit down, scooting backwards until she was laid out flat, her eyes dark and wanting. Christen crawled onto the bed, dropping her head to suck Tobin’s nipple into her mouth for a brief moment before giving her another kiss. She swung her leg around so that she was straddling Tobin’s hips, the strap on caught between them, pressing at Christen’s stomach. She straightened up so that she was sitting and Tobin ghosted one of the hands on her hips up to cup her cheek. She dragged her thumb along Christen’s full bottom lip, and Christen softly kissed it.

She let the hand drop so that it was encircling Christen’s throat, not squeezing at first, just holding. “You’re beautiful.”

“I’m yours.”

“Green?” she asked softly.

“Green. So fucking green,” Christen confirmed with a nod.

Tobin began to squeeze, just enough to give pressure. “You gonna ride me baby? You gonna be my pretty little bitch?”

Christen let out a high pitched moan. In her everyday life, calling her a bitch was a surefire way to earn a tirade about the effects of gendered insults. But here, in their bedroom, with Tobin’s voice low and raspy, _Tobin,_ her wife who adored her with every fiber of her being, well… it hit _very_ differently.

“Yes,” she gasped out. “Yes, I wanna ride you.”

“Because you’re what?”

“Yours. Your pretty bitch. No one else’s.” She raised up on her knees and Tobin helped guide the strap on between her legs. She sank down and her mouth fell open in a filthy moan. “Tobin.”

“Fuck. Fuck, Chris.”

They began to move together, Tobin snapping her hips up as Christen came down, the room filling with groans and pants and the sound of skin meeting skin. It took no time at all before she was nearing her peak again, tossing her head from side to side. “God I’m… Tobs, more, please I-” Tobin squeezed just a little harder, thrust up into her with just a little more force, and Christen reached orgasm number two, nearly screaming, her entire body shuddering with the force of it. When she reached the end, Tobin released her grip on Christen’s throat and she collapsed forward, her body feeling boneless.

“Fuck…” she moaned into Tobin’s neck, trying to catch her breath.

“Are you okay?”

She smiled, pressing her lips against her salty, sweaty skin. “I’m fucking fantastic.” She sucked in a deep breath then used what little strength was left in her legs to roll them over so that Tobin was on top of her, the strap on still buried between her legs. She slid a hand into Tobin’s hair and let the other fall to Tobin’s ass, pulling her further in. “Fuck me, baby,” she groaned. “I wanna hear you come.”

Tobin did as she said, thrusting into her, the strap pressing back into her clit as she did. “Christen,” she panted.

“What baby?”

“I’m… fuck, I’m close. You’re so sexy, and beaut-” Christen gave her hair a slight tug and Tobin cut off with a moan. “I’m close.” Tobin shifted her weight so that one hand could slip between them, rubbing tight circles around Christen’s clit.

“Yes baby, yes,” Christen chanted, feeling like she could barely breath. “Fuck, yes.”

Tobin gave an extra hard thrust and then stilled, her hips jerking as she came with a loud cry. The extra pressure between her legs set Christen off as well, and after several moments, they both collapsed, spent and out of breath.

“Missed you,” Christen managed to gasp out.

Tobin gave a lazy chuckle as she slowly pulled back, easing the strap from Christen’s body. She unfastened it and then pushed the harness down over her hips, tossing them both to the floor, to be dealt with in the morning. She grabbed the throw blanket from the end of the bed and pulled it to cover them as she moved behind Christen to spoon her. “Missed you too.”

“I love you.”

“Love you too.” Tobin nuzzled her nose into the back of Christen’s neck. “Gonna marry you.”

Christen laughed. “You already married me.”

“Too bad. Gonna do it again. That’s how much I love you.” Tobin pulled her closer.

“Can’t believe Sophia saw you with your hand up my dress,” Christen yawned.

“Yeah… Hopefully she doesn’t say anything. Lindsey will never let me hear the end of it.”

“Well if she says anything, then you can just bring up that time after the world cup when we found her in bed with both Kelley and Emily.”

“Ugh, don’t remind me,” Tobin groaned. “Kelley is my bro, I never wanted to see that side of her.”

Christen interlaced their fingers. “I love you, Tobin. Happy Halloween.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tumblr: @thetheatrelady


End file.
